


The Camelot Estate

by BuffyWoodhouse



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, F/F, Femslash, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Historical Inaccuracies, Homophobia, I am not a historian, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6084804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyWoodhouse/pseuds/BuffyWoodhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Morgana Le Fay is the ward of the highly esteemed Lord Uther Pendragon. On the surface, she seems to be the epitome of everything a woman in her position should be: beautiful, elegant, well educated - if not a little outspoken and strong willed. The truth is, however, that Morgana's life is riddled with secrets. Both hers and those around her. When a secret love for her lady's maid turns out to be not as unrequited as she first thought, her world changes forever. And what about Arthur? Uther Pendragon's pompous, arrogant son? What is he hiding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first long Morgwen fic, I hope you enjoy it. I would like to put out a disclaimer that 1) I don't own Merlin or the characters and 2) I'm not a historian... I've just watched a lot of Downton Abbey and this was written for fun!

The whole thing was absurd. She couldn’t quite believe she was entertaining the thought and if her guardian, Lord Uther Pendragon, knew about it, he would have her committed to an institution. She knew this and yet, every time she walked in the room, Morgana could not control her smile. When she would leave flowers for her on the dresser it made her feel like she'd just found something precious. When she helped her dress and her fingers would brush against her skin – well, Morgana couldn’t think about it without blushing.

It had come on so suddenly. Gwen was the most wonderful lady’s maid and friend Morgana could have asked for. She’d come into Lord Uther Pendragon’s service as a girl, having come from London with her brother and father. Morgana had recently been taken in as Uther’s ward following the death of her parents and had found herself quite starved for female companionship in a house with only a middle-aged man and his adolescent son.

She’d grown up in Cornwall on her family’s estate of Tintagel. However, after her parents’ death, the estate went to her Uncle Agravain who Morgana had loathed. He’d always made her feel uncomfortable when she’d been left alone with him so when Uther had offered her the chance to live with him, she’d readily accepted. Agravain had been reluctant to let his niece leave but Uther had been quite insistent that the change of scenery would be good for her. Apparently, being at Tintagel with the memory of her parents at every turn was bad for her health. She’d heartily agreed to everything Uther had said just to get away from Uncle _Aggravating_ and Uther had made haste with having her possessions moved to Camelot. From then on he’d spoilt her rotten and treated her as one of his own. This had caused resentment from his young son, Arthur, who, at thirteen years old, a year and a half younger than herself (and still a head shorter than her) had been used to being the only child at Camelot worthy of Uther’s affection. However, after a while, they realised they were rather, albeit reluctantly, attached to one another though neither would be inclined to admit it.

While Arthur had been good enough company when they weren’t with their private tutors (and when he wasn't being an impertinent donkey), she longed for female companionship. Her own sister, Morgause, was several years older than her and had already been married by the time their parents had passed. Fortunately for her, however, no more than a year after her arrival at Camelot, Uther had hired Gwen to work as a maid in the house. The first time they’d met, she’d been dusting over the mahogany table in the library when Morgana had walked in to retrieve a book. Gwen had squeaked in surprise upon seeing her in the doorway, her eyes bugged in panic.

“I’m, I’m sorry, my lady. I did not know this room would be in use.” She’d looked at her quite terrified so Morgana had smiled in reassurance.

“It’s quite alright,” she’d soothed as she'd approached her. “I’m Lady Morgana, Lord Camelot’s ward, and who might you be?”

“Guinevere,” the girl had let out a shaky breath. “But everyone calls me Gwen.”

“Gwen,” Morgana had smiled warmly.

“I can leave this until later if you would like the use of the room, my lady?” Gwen offered.

“No, not at all! Stay! I’d be glad of the company,” Morgana had insisted. She’d asked Gwen about how she was finding Camelot, whether she saw her family often and what the other staff were like. She’d learnt that she was just fifteen, of similar age to herself, and was settling in quite well. She hadn't had any dealings with Uther but she’d met Arthur who’d taken care to learn her name. This still pleased Morgana as Arthur had a tendency to act like a pompous pig at the best of times (something he was working, and halfway succeeding, to improve upon.)

Morgana had been thrilled at the ease of conversation and the way she and Gwen could bring each other to giggles. She had no female companions at Camelot as Uther had no daughters and her age made socialising awkward. Gwen filled the space that had left her so wanting. After a while, Morgana (very subtly) announced to Uther that Gwen was the loveliest and most competent of their staff and insisted she be on hand to help her dress instead of Mrs Withersby who Morgana found prudent and intolerable. (“This dress is indecent! No young lady should be so poorly covered. Such short sleeves make a girl look wanton! No such thing would have happened when Lady Ygraine was a girl!”) Her sole purpose was to nag Morgana back to the middle of the nineteenth century.

For eight wonderful years, Gwen had been her companion and loyal servant. She loved her best above all others (apart from maybe Morgause, though that was obligatory, wasn’t it?).  Now, though, there was something that concerned her, so much so her stomach ached when she thought about it too much.

She and Gwen had always been uncommonly close. They embraced like friends rather than a lady and her maid. She encouraged Gwen to stay with her in her room until as late as possible as they would chat. They’d go into town together with linked arms. It was a different age, of course, and class barriers were breaking down but it displeased Uther to a significant degree. Initially, he’d been overjoyed to see her smile again but after the grieving period had passed he suggested she find more suitable companions in the form of local ladies. She made friends with them all easily but none of them were as dear to her as Gwen.

“Arthur spends his free time with Merlin,” Morgana argued when the subject was broached by Uther at dinner. She gestured to the footman (turned valet - the house staff had lessened since the war) who stood at the door. He looked startled at the mention of his name. She thought she saw a blush tint his ears and she felt a wave of guilt.

“ _Spending time?_ ” Arthur scoffed incredulously. “I’d hardly call a few trips to the public house and one game of cricket _spending_ time. Trust me. I do not want to spend any more time with this buffoon than I must.” He paused. “No offense, Merlin.”  

Uther looked amused at his son’s response and pleased at Merlin’s obvious embarrassment. Morgana glared at Arthur. He really could be nasty at times.

“Well, I cannot help it if I favour her company above the other ladies. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her. She is invaluable to me.”

“And that, sister, is where you and I are different. They are all the same to me.” Arthur shook his head, earning a chuckle from Uther.

“I am not your sister,” she reminded him coldly.

“No, you’re not, thank goodness.”

“Arthur,” Uther chastised half-heartedly. He could detect his son’s teasing tone but feared the lady’s offense.

“Yes, _Arthur,_ ” Morgana smirked. “That was terrible of you. While we are not blood, you know I think of you as _dear_ as a brother. It pains me to think you regard me with such disdain.”

“Oh, my dearest, Morgana. Please accept my most humble apologies. It was in jest and I never wished to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

“Children, stop it,” Uther growled, growing tired with their exaggerated back and forth. “Arthur, have you had a chance to go down to the farm this week yet?”

Morgana turned her attention to Merlin at the door then. He looked so sad and Morgana seethed inside knowing that Arthur had done that. He was truly wretched at times.

“What you did to Merlin was despicable,” She told Arthur after dinner when they were alone.

“Oh, please, Morgs. He knows I was kidding.”

“Does he? Does he _really,_ Arthur? Because he certainly looked _hurt_ in there,” Morgana snapped. Arthur shook his head and his brown furrowed before it smoothed out and a cocky grin took its place.

“Well, that’s very sad for him. He’ll have to get over it,” he said and turned to leave.

“Arthur!” she protested.

He turned on his heel to face her and gave her his smarmiest smirk in response before disappearing down the corridor too far for her to call out to him – not that she _would._ Not now. _God, he is vile,_ she thought. _Infuriating_. She stormed back to her room to undress for bed. Hopefully, Gwen would be waiting for her.

She was, and she knew something was troubling Morgana as soon as she walked into her bedroom.

“My lady, what is wrong?”

As soon as the door was shut, Morgana didn't waste time and threw herself into her arms. She buried her face in the crook of her warm neck and the scent of her skin soothed Morgana’s irritation.

“Arthur. He is wretched. He’s so cruel to poor Merlin who only tries his best. I wish he wasn’t such an arrogant, pompous, _nasty,_ urgh!” Her voice came out mumbled from where her face was hidden but Gwen could understand.

She felt a gentle hand stroke her hair and she sighed in relief.

“What did he do that was so terrible?”

She told her and Gwen frowned.

“Well, perhaps he truly was joking and didn’t realise the weight of his words. I’m sure he’ll apologise to Merlin in private.”

Morgana wasn’t satisfied with this but decided not to let Arthur ruin her time with Gwen.

Gwen began undoing the buttons at the back of her dress and helped her step out of it, leaving her in her under things. Her earlier dilemma flew to the forefront of her mind as she felt Gwen’s fingers against her bare skin. She audibly gasped when her hand brushed against her breast.

She turned and caught Gwen’s eyes which somehow seemed darker than before. Was it not just her then? She’d felt so much shame and embarrassment over her feelings for so long. She’d felt wicked, coveting Gwen’s sweetness as she did, but when she was looking at her like _that?_ How could she be sure that this was one-sided?

“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.

“Don’t apologise,” Morgana whispered, scared to say anything else. She snapped her head to face away from her, unable to keep Gwen’s gaze. This was madness. She couldn’t possibly feel this way about Gwen. Gwen was a woman and women didn’t feel like that for other women, did they? She supposed they did… she’d heard stories about men desiring other men. She’d heard nothing of women feeling the same, however. Though, she supposed you never heard much from women or how women felt other than what men wanted them to feel.

“Morgana?” She heard Gwen’s worried voice at her ear. She realised her breath was hitching with each intake as she struggled to calm herself and Gwen had noticed.

“Would you like to sit?”

“Yes, please, Gwen,” Morgana smiled tightly and Gwen led her to her dressing chair.

Once she had settled, Gwen moved to kneel in front of her.

“Are you all right?”

Her position made Morgana gulp. Gwen’s face hovered over where her knees were leaving her so close to… _no. Please, Morgana,_ she begged herself. She gulped and tried to even out her breathing.

“I’m just feeling a little faint,” Morgana explained. “Perhaps I had too much wine at dinner and all this business with Arthur and Merlin has upset me.”

“I could speak to Merlin if you like, my lady. I’m sure he isn’t too upset by it. He’s normally got a sense of humour about these things… especially when it comes to Arthur. They’ve probably made up already. There’s no need to fret over it.” Gwen placed a hand on her bare knee and squeezed it. It wasn’t unusual for Morgana to be in such a state of undress in front of Guinevere. She supposed she didn’t bat an eyelid at it by now but Morgana thought maybe too much of it at that point in time. She truly wished these feelings would go away. How could she think of Gwen like this while pretending to be a good friend? Good friends did not feel this way about their friends and good mistresses certainly didn’t feel this way about their servants. What if Morgana slipped up and let on about how she felt and Gwen thought she was disgusting? Depraved? All she wanted was to kiss her, to hold her and to never kiss or hold anyone else. She didn’t want anyone else. She thought she could blame that on her inexperience… maybe if she found a husband one day, maybe she’d feel the same affections towards him and all would be well. She tried to imagine a man looking at her the way Gwen was in that moment and she knew it was no good. She feared she’d never desire a man in the same way or anyone else other than Miss Guinevere Smith.

“Could you please get my nightdress, Gwen? And help me undo my hair?”

“Of course, my lady.” She obliged and scooped up a carefully folded lace night dress from the bed. It was her favourite.

After slipping on the garment, she turned to her vanity mirror and sat back in her chair as Gwen pulled out the pins which held her hair up. Long dark tresses fell down her back and she sighed in relief at the freedom it allowed her. She immediately went to massage her own scalp to relieve some of the aches that were left from wearing her hair up all day. She spotted Gwen looking at her in the mirror, a small smile playing on her soft looking lips.

“You’re so beautiful, my lady,” she sighed. Morgana ducked her head, embarrassed at her compliment. She so wished she’d said: you’re so beautiful, _Morgana;_ but the sentiment still warmed her through.

“As are you, Guinevere,” she replied and took her hand. “So beautiful.”

She could tell Gwen didn’t know how to react. She looked embarrassed and shy but also pleased which made Morgana grin.

“Do people often tell you you’re beautiful, Gwen?” she asked fondly.

“No, my lady. My father does but he is kind of obligated to do so,” she bit her lip, embarrassed.

“No boys in the town?”

Gwen shook her head and Morgana admitted then that she was relieved at this.

“Well, I think you’re the most celestial creature in all of Camelot,” Morgana proclaimed.

“My lady!” Gwen giggled.

“What? It is true!” Morgana gushed. “You cannot pay a compliment to me and not expect my admiration in return. Guinevere, you are lovely.”

She continued to praise her friend as she felt the need to see her smile. After the upset at dinner, she wanted to go to bed knowing that at least someone was happy tonight. She could do this without revealing her true regard for Gwen. One of the good fortunes of being female was that one could express a keen admiration for one's own sex without seeming deviant or untoward. Sadly, though, only so much could be said.

“I should get some rest. Gwen, would you turn down the bed please?”

Morgana watched as she did so and slipped under the sheets after a moment.

“Will that be all for tonight, my lady?” Gwen asked.

“Yes, thank you, Gwen.”

“Goodnight, my lady.”

“Goodnight, Gwen.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was the first chapter. If you've taken the time to read the whole thing, I would be really grateful if you could leave a comment or some kudos. Even if it is a short comment or even a criticism. Feedback would really help me in writing this fic.


	2. Chapter Two

The next day she passed Merlin in the hall and he seemed in much better spirits.

“Good morning, Merlin,” she smiled.

“Good morning, my lady!” He grinned back.

“You seem to be in a good mood today, Merlin. Any particular reason?”

“No, no reason. It’s just a good day, don’t you think?”

“I have no reason to believe it should be any better or worse than any other day,” she assessed a cheeky grin. “It is, however, only nine o’clock so it’s hard to say where the day will take me as yet.”

“Well, I have a feeling it’s going to be a good day.”

“MERLIN!” sounded Arthur’s voice from some unseen place.

“Or not,” Morgana rolled her eyes.

Merlin’s smile fell a little bit but he didn’t say anything more other than to excuse himself so he could attend his duties.

Morgana shook her head. The poor boy had been in such high spirits and now surely they were all but dashed.

She descended the stairs, already having been tended to by Guinevere, to have breakfast with Uther before visiting with Sophia and Elena that afternoon. They were some of the more high standing residents of the local area. While Elena was a sweet enough girl who held herself elegantly and with whom she had delightful conversations, she found Sophia’s company unpleasant to say the very least. Fortunately, the Lady Vivian would not be in attendance for which Morgana was eternally grateful. Sophia may have been unpleasant but Vivian was horrid, rude, narcissistic and contemptuous all at once. Again, that was the very _least_ that could be said. She’d always fancied she’d be _perfect_ for Arthur, (though maybe that was just a little bit _too_ cruel.)

After breakfast, she called for the car to be brought out the front for her short journey to Sophia’s family estate. The property was considerably smaller than Camelot but was still a lovely sight. Morgana enjoyed the gardens and was looking forward to taking a turn in them that afternoon.

When she arrived she was greeted by Sophia in the driveway.

“Morgana!” She beamed and Morgana was more than a little suspicious that it was false. “We’ve been waiting! You’ll never guess who’s just arrived!”

“Who?” She asked as Sophia took her by the hand and led her inside.

“Cousin Leon!”

“Oh, goody!” Morgana smiled but, in fact, had very little interest in Leon. She’d seen him no more than a fortnight ago at Lord Rodor’s dinner party and had been satisfied that he was well.

She spent the afternoon in their company and while it was quaint, she couldn’t wait to return to Gwen. She’d only seen her that morning when she had woken her with a smile.

Elena, fortunately, made for satisfactory company and gave Morgana a much welcome update on her horses. Elena had a number of fine mares in her stable that had won prizes in county competitions. Whenever Morgana had the chance to make the slightly longer journey out to Elena’s estate they always spent hours in the stables. Morgana was particularly fond of them.

At four o’clock Morgana insisted that she must return to Camelot for dinner. She politely refused their invitation to dine with them, saying that she did not have a change of clothes and wouldn’t want to impose. The issue wasn’t pressed by Sophia who she assumed didn’t really want her there much longer either.

When she returned to Camelot, Gwen was waiting at the door.

“I saw the car from the window, my lady,” she explained. “How was your visit with the Lady Sophia and the Lady Elena?”

“It was quite well,” she said not trying to feign any kind of enthusiasm for Gwen’s benefit. Gwen knew she hadn’t been overly excited about the visit. “Leon was there, however. Bearded Leon, you remember him?” she prompted and Gwen nodded. Morgana was none too fond of his facial hair. It was hardly fashionable or even presentable.

“Leon?” sounded Arthur’s voice as he appeared from seemingly nowhere. He looked disappointed. “Why didn’t you send for me?”

“Because I leave the house to get away from you, Arthur,” she teased. “It wouldn’t make sense to go all that way and then send for you to follow.”

He paused a moment but didn’t argue, just chuckled in submission. He then excused himself to attend to some “business” though Morgana couldn’t imagine what it was at that hour. He scarpered off not to be seen again until they sat down for dinner.

“Gwen, could we please go up to my room? I’m _exhausted_ and would love to hide away for a while before we eat.”

“Of course, my lady,” she smiled, always willing to please. Morgana briefly thought that it was because she was paid to act so, but she couldn’t entertain the thought for too long. No, Gwen was truly an angel who’d do anything she asked.

As soon as they were in the privacy of her room Morgana collapsed on the bed, bouncing when she met the resistance of the mattress.

“Why is everyone so boring?” She groaned into her pillow. “Not you, Gwen.” She amended. “I meant Sophia and Leon… I don’t think Elena to be altogether boring but I don’t feel at ease in anyone’s company but yours. Sit with me, please?” she held out her hand and Gwen readily came to sit beside her on the bed. They clasped their hands together and they rested on Morgana’s stomach.

“Perhaps a trip to London might sooth your unrest, my lady.”

A sly grin spread across Morgana’s cheeks.

“Yes! And we could go shopping. I’ll buy you a new hat!”

“Morgana, please, no!” Gwen protested with a giggle and Morgana rejoiced to hear her name.

“Yes, it shall be just as lovely as you.” She sighed. _If it were possible,_ she added in her head.

“You’re always so kind to me,” Gwen said softly, her thumb grazing over the back of Morgana’s hand affectionately.

“How can I be anything but when you smile so brightly like that?” She sighed and shifted closer to Gwen. “I am so lucky to have you, Gwen.”

Just then Gwen burst into tears.

“Gwen? What is it? Have I upset you? Gwen, please don’t cry! Oh, Gwen!” Morgana soothed and pulled her into her arms and this only made her cry harder. She was scared she’d gone too far, that Gwen had read something in her expression that had scared her.

 “No, it’s nothing, my lady. It’s just that you’re so nice and I scarcely deserve it!”

“Gwen, that is nonsense! You are the dearest friend I have! You deserve all the kindness I can give.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She gasped suddenly panicked at the situation.

“Don’t apologise, but please, tell me what’s wrong?” Morgana regarded her quivering lip with concern, praying that whatever it was it was nothing she had done to make her uncomfortable. She hoped this wasn’t a front.

“It’s nothing. I’m just feeling a little under the weather, is all.”

“Gwen,” Morgana pressed. “Maybe any other mistress might accept that but this is me. What is it?”

Gwen was silent for quite some time, probably trying to figure out to say. _Was Gwen constructing a lie?_ Morgana wondered painfully.

“It is just that… I have feelings for someone who doesn’t return them and could never return them and I’m just upset – not myself, more like. I’m sorry, my lady. I’m not making much sense.”

Morgana felt her chest tighten. That was not what she had imagined Gwen would say and she wished she never had. She had to recover quickly. Any friend would have said something comforting by then.

“Oh, Gwen. I’m sure it can’t be that much of a lost cause! Who is he? What is his name?” She dared to ask.

Gwen frowned seriously and then a small smile graced her lips. It was barely there but there all the same.

“I daren’t tell you his name because I know you’ll meddle.”

Morgana feigned a gasp. Maybe helping Guinevere get her man would help her remember the natural balance of things. This silly infatuation was clearly one sided and Morgana suspected she could have even fabricated the whole thing to bring a dramatic twist to her own otherwise mundane life.

“Me? As if I would so boldly impose myself on your affairs and invade your privacy!”

“Yes, you,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “Please, Morgana. Don’t try and help. It won’t change anything.”

“Can’t I just know his name?” Morgana half pleaded. “Do I know him?” She gasped in sudden realisation. “Is it Arthur?” She narrowed her eyes at her friend.

“Morgana! No! Why would it be _Arthur?_ ”

“You said it could never be!” She explained, exasperated. Arthur was the heir to Camelot and the Pendragon fortune. He was one of the most sought after men in Britain. It was a pity he was such a chauvinistic brute or Morgana would marry him herself. She’d considered it as a genuine option many a time. If Gwen’s love was not for Arthur then there were seldom men in the county that Gwen had regular interaction with that were truly unattainable. Or…

“It’s not Uther is it?” Morgana asked. Her top lip curled into a grimace.

Gwen’s face twisted in disbelief.

“No! It’s no one at the house. Just a young man from the town. It’s nothing.”

“Then why can I not have his name? And why can it never be? Oh, Guinevere, _please._ ”

There was a pause where Morgana only looked at Gwen with pleading puppy dog eyes and Gwen looked at her with a scowl. She gave in.

“He’s… he’s married,” she sighed. _Oh._

“Oh."

“Yes, oh,” Gwen said. “Now you understand why I’m a bad person? Why I feel so guilty?”

“But you’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing has happened with this man, has it?”

Gwen shook her head.

“There, and nothing ever shall… unless his wife should die of some tragic illness and be struck down in her prime and then I’m sure you’d be at the front of the queue.”

“ _Morgana!_ ”

“What? I know. I’m wicked. We all feel things and think things we’re not proud of, Gwen. It is the actions we take which are what matter.” She stroked her cheek that was still wet with tears. Knowing her mind was occupied with thoughts of married men, Morgana could afford to look at her like this. Gwen was not thinking of her, as much as it pained her to admit. So she could sit here and gaze at her face like a lover would; just for a moment; and then she had to let this go.

“I should dress for dinner,” Morgana said once Gwen seemed soothed. “Would you please get my blue dress from the wardrobe?”

“Of course, my lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos on chapter one. I hope you enjoyed chapter two :) xxxx


	3. Chapter Three

Weeks past and nothing came of Gwen’s married man debacle. Morgana was desperate for a name but Gwen would not give in. She thought and thought it over but no admirable married men in the town sprung to mind. Her frustration was growing with every passing day. Every dazed look or lingering smile Gwen got as she worked, set the cogs working in Morgana's brain.  _Who was he?_

“Gwen, could you just turn to the right, a little? You’ve moved,” Morgana asked. They were sat atop of a hill, underneath a large oak tree. It was one of Morgana’s favourite spots on the property and it was where they’d taken a picnic up to spend that Saturday afternoon. The sun was shining brightly and there was only a slight breeze. Morgana was staring intently at the sketchbook in her hands where she was carefully replicating Gwen’s image. It was serving as a welcome distraction from trying to solve the riddle of Gwen's apparently messy love life. 

“I’m trying to be still!” Gwen protested with a giggle that made Morgana smile involuntarily.

“I’m almost done!”

“You said the same thing twenty minutes ago!”

“I cannot help it if I’m a perfectionist! But this time, I truly mean it. I’ll be no more than five minutes… at most,” she assured her friend but they both knew that it would be closer to ten.

“There, done!” Morgana declared something like nine minutes later. She presented the sketch to Gwen. “It’s not exactly right. Drawing was never by forte but-”

“It’s lovely!” Gwen smiled. “You made me look far more beautiful than I really am, my lady."

“Oh, nonsense. If anything the jaw is too mannish and the nose too pointy,” Morgana rolled her eyes.  

They passed the rest of the afternoon like that, teasing and laughing. The clouds began to cover the sun so they had to make their way back to the house.

“I think it’s going to rain,” Gwen looked up at the sky with a grimace. They were easily another twenty minutes away from the house and with the way the sky was looking it wouldn’t be long until the rain came.

“Let us hope it’ll just be drizzle.”

She regretted her words when a moment later the first drop hit her cheek, then another and then another. The so-called drizzle quickly gained momentum and it was suddenly pouring.

“Oh, heavens!” Morgana cried trying to cover her head with her hands.

“Shall we try and leg it?” Gwen asked. Morgana nodded and took her hand. They took off on a half jog, half brisk walk towards the house.

All was going well until they made it to a muddy slope on which Gwen lost her footing and both she and Morgana crashed to the ground. Morgana looked down at Gwen, startled. It took her a moment to catch up with what had happened but when she did she realised she was practically on top of Gwen. She froze. Gwen seemingly did the same.

Neither of them spoke for a moment and it was rather strange. She expected Gwen to break the silence with a laugh or a joke or an apology or _something_ but she didn’t. She just stared up at her. Then a thought struck her.

“Are you alright?” Morgana gasped. “Are you injured?”

“No, my lady,” Gwen finally breathed. “I was just in shock. My whole back is wet.” Then she let out a laugh and Morgana relaxed.

“Oh!” Morgana scampered up and helped Gwen to her feet. She turned her around to find her dress sodden through with mud. “Oh, dear.”

“When Uther sees us or, more to the point _you,_ he’ll have a fit. I’m going to be in so much trouble!” Gwen’s eyes were wide with fear. Morgana reclaimed her hand and they kept walking towards the house.

“We’ll go in through the downstairs. We’ll go straight to your room and dry off. You can change and we’ll send another maid to get me something to change into. It’ll be like in one of those pulp fiction detective novels you’re so fond of, you’ll see. It will be fine.”

Gwen nodded at her shakily, clearly still concerned about Uther’s wrath. He was overly protective of his ward and if she were to return soaking wet and in danger of a fever it would be Gwen he would blame.

They made it back to the house without a hitch and snuck into the kitchens as Morgana had planned. They were met with a few confused glances from the staff but with one gesture from Morgana telling them to keep quiet they were able to slip up to Gwen’s room unchallenged.

Gwen’s room was small and plain with just a single metal framed bed. Beside it, there was a framed photograph of her mother that had been taken during the war. It made Morgana think of her own parents and smiled sadly at the memory.

She moved to help Gwen undress, surprising the other girl.

“Humour me,” she said. “I like looking after people, it’s just that I don’t get to do it often enough.”

Gwen relaxed and let her help peel off her sodden clothing. She wasn’t wearing her maid’s uniform that day. Instead, she wore a pretty lilac dress, with floral details. Morgana preferred her in it to her black and white uniform. It was a shame it was so dirty. She hoped it wasn’t spoiled. If it was then she vowed to replace it. Maybe even if it wasn’t she would buy her a new one or, at least, she would purchase the fabric. She knew Gwen made most of her own clothes and was a very talented seamstress. She hoped Gwen would find her way to make a career in it one day. Morgana could see her with her own shop in London, selling her designs. Gwen had spoke of it one afternoon when they’d discussed their dreams. This, of course, would mean that Gwen would have to leave Morgana and even the thought tugged at her heart.

She stood back as Gwen stepped out of it, leaving her in only her underwear. Gwen blushed, never having been the undressed, only the help.

“There are some blankets in that basket,” Gwen explained. “I have to…” She trailed off and gestured to herself. _Oh._ Gwen had to take off her undergarments as she was soaked through. Morgana slipped past her and pulled out a large yellow blanket and held it out to Gwen who hid behind it as she got undressed.

Morgana stepped out of her own clothing, refusing Gwen’s help when she offered it. Fortunately, her undergarments weren’t wet as she didn’t fall in a puddle like Gwen had.

“I’ll start a fire,” Morgana announced but soon found herself at odds with the small heater in the room. Gwen giggled and helped her get the warmth going.

She then dried off and slipped on a fresh set of underwear. She returned to sit beside Morgana and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders too. Morgana’s heart quickened at the closeness.

“Your arms are freezing!” Gwen gasped. “Come here!” she began rubbing Morgana’s bare arms vigorously in an attempt to warm her up and Morgana thought she might die. Thoughts of kissing under the blanket plagued her and the temptation to lean in was almost too strong.

Morgana instinctively moved closer to Gwen. The other girl’s cheeks were glowing from the warmth of the heater and it was quite captivating. Morgana glanced down to Gwen’s legs, her torso and her bare arms. All parts of her she’d never seen before. When she looked up, Gwen’s face was suddenly closer than before and her heart jumped. It was so sudden she didn’t have time to process it until it had passed. Gwen had placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Morgana stared at her in awe and Gwen looked apprehensive. Morgana’s hand drifted to her cheek and ghosted over where Gwen had kissed her. She was elated by the contact but one look in Gwen’s eyes told her she was frightened. Of course, she would be. To anyone else that would have been considered improper.

Morgana had to assure her it was okay. That she wanted her to do it again. 

She leant in and placed an equally as gentle kiss upon Gwen’s cheek. Gwen’s breath hitched and the sound fed a low burning desire in Morgana pushing her to kiss her again, and again. She kissed her finally on the corner of her lips and she swore to herself that would be the last before Gwen titled her head and captured her lips with her own.

If Morgana had thought she _could_ have died before when Gwen had been rubbing her arms, now she was sure she _was_ dead and this was heaven.

Gwen’s kisses were gentle but hungry and each were met with hot gasps. She was perhaps unsure at first but Morgana fixed that by meeting her lips enthusiastically. The mutual reassurance that the other wanted this and was willing was enough to bring them closer together. Gwen wrapped her arms around Morgana’s shoulders to bring her closer and Morgana’s slipped to Gwen’s waist. Morgana could taste tears in their kisses and pulled back.

“Is this-?”

Gwen nodded and kissed her again  _Yes, this was some kind of heaven_.

There was a knock at the door.

“Gwen?”

“It’s Freya," Gwen whispered, panicked. “Hold on!” She said louder for the girl on the other side to hear and shifted away from Morgana, not meeting her eye. She stood up and slipped on her robe that hung on the back of the door. Morgana covered herself with the blanket.

Gwen opened the door slightly and after a short whispered conversation Freya left and the door shut.

“I’ve sent her for your clothes,” she said. There was now an awkward silence and it frightened Morgana. What if what had just happened was a lapse of judgement on Gwen’s part? What if she pleaded temporary insanity? What would this mean for them?

“Thank you,” was all Morgana could say.

She watched as Gwen put on her uniform once more to tend to her evening duties. She still had to dress Morgana for dinner and then for bed and do a number of other things, Morgana was sure. She prayed they could spend that time more like they just had rather than in bitter silence.

“Are you warm enough?” Gwen asked. Her voice cracking and it was then that Morgana realised she was shaking slightly.

Morgana nodded. She frowned at Gwen’s posture. She seemed tense and lacked the gentle smile she normally wore. Instead, her face was tight with a grimace.

“I’m sorry,” Morgana finally uttered for lack of anything better to say.

 “You’re – you’re sorry? Why on earth are you-? Oh, my lady.”

Morgana held out her hand for Gwen to join her. Gwen must have seen something reassuring in her eyes because she sat down relatively close.

“Was it – was what happened – was it alright?” Gwen asked softy. Morgana took her hand.

“Yes. It was more than alright if I’m honest,” Morgana explained. She felt Gwen’s sigh of relief besides her.

She stole a glimpse at her when she turned her head. Gwen still looked a little worried so Morgana squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“How do you feel about it?” Morgana asked and Gwen’s eyes widened.

“I – I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe pleased?”

“ _Maybe_ pleased?” Morgana echoed.

“I am,” Gwen confirmed and paused. “Honestly? I’ve wanted-” she stopped herself and looked at Morgana for help. Morgana understood this must be a difficult situation for her. It was difficult for both of them but most of all for Gwen. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.”

Morgana broke into a blinding grin.

“As have I.”

Gwen had to smile at that too, a blinding, beaming, heart-shattering smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to leave kudos if you liked it or comments. It would mean the world!


	4. Chapter Four

"What about your married man?” Morgana asked as Gwen got her dressed for bed that evening. It had been bothering her since their kiss but she’d yet to bring it up out of fear of what she might say. She wouldn't have been able to stand it if she were Gwen’s second choice.

“I made him up,” Gwen admitted after a moment of hesitance.

“Really?” Morgana frowned.

“Yes, I had to come up with something to justify my outburst. I’d really been thinking about you… feeling guilty because…” Gwen trailed off and shrugged.

“I understand; I’ve felt the same. Oh, Gwen, I’ve been so scared!” She turned to face her friend and gripped her hand. “I thought that if you ever found out that you would hate me. I was so sure you’d think that I was…” she couldn’t even speak it.

Gwen smiled sadly at Morgana’s admission.

“I know… I felt exactly the same. But by some miracle, you feel as I do and no matter-” she paused. “We haven’t lost each other’s good opinion for it. Quite the opposite, I think.”

“Stay with me a while, Gwen, please?” Morgana asked fondly.

Gwen agreed and they lay on the bed together.

“I fear I might fall asleep, my lady,” Gwen whispered.

“Then I shall keep you awake.”

Morgana leant in and captured Gwen’s lips in a fierce kiss. Gwen made a small noise of surprise that pleased Morgana. She set about to surprise her again by pulling her towards her and wrapping her arms around her waist. She was rewarded with the sound of gentle moans.

They kissed until the hour had passed eleven o’clock and Gwen had to leave. She had to be up at five o’clock the next day to start her daily duties. Morgana pouted as she bid her goodnight but the way it made Gwen giggle brightened her mood.

“Goodnight, Gwen,” she sighed, finally content.

After that, their life became evening trysts and stolen glances throughout the day. Uther remarked on how much happier Morgana seemed to be, which Morgana attributed to simply being so grateful for his company and her home at Camelot. Arthur eyed her suspiciously but that was nothing new.

Her good mood carried on to the luncheon she and Arthur took out to the woods one afternoon. Well, it _had_ until Arthur started being an arse. Merlin was stumbling behind carrying the bags and she eyed him sympathetically.

“Hurry up, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur scolded his servant. “We haven’t got all day!”

He was falling behind rapidly with the weight of all he had to carry.

“Perhaps he wouldn’t be so slow if you _helped_ him, Arthur.” Morgana glared. She’d offered to carry the blankets or share the load of the basket but Merlin had declined. Morgana suspected it was due to the killer glares Arthur had most likely been shooting at him from behind her.

Eventually, Arthur stopped and jogged back to where Merlin was struggling.

“Give it _here,_ you buffoon!” Arthur chastised and took the basket from Merlin. There was some hushed conversation between the two that Morgana couldn’t hear from where she stood. When she looked, however, Merlin was smiling and while she couldn’t see Arthur’s face, he looked relaxed enough.

Morgana waited patiently for Arthur to return, this time carrying the basket himself while Merlin trailed with the rest.

“It’s a shame Leon couldn’t make it,” Arthur commented.

“Well, his aunt has become unwell. He had to leave at such short notice. I’m relieved if I’m honest. There was every possibility that he would have brought Sophia and _Vivian._ ”

Morgana wasn’t too fussed about it. She was concerned for Leon’s aunt and, of course, Leon’s feelings but she found _him_ a bit of a bore. She had nothing against him, of course. Just that his jokes fell short of funny and he laughed a little too loud at them. Oh, and, of course, his terrible taste in facial hair, but this has already been addressed.

“You know, Morgana, I think our dislike of Lady Vivian is the only thing we have in common.”

“Yes, it certainly did bring us closer, didn’t it?” Morgana chuckled. “What do you think, Merlin?”

“Of what, my lady?” he looked at her startled and she had to stifle a chuckle at his expression.

“ _The Lady Vivian_ ,” she said ominously. “Do you find her as hideous as we do?”

“Ummm…” Merlin hesitated. She caught him looking at Arthur for guidance and he must have found permission there because he said:

“She’s ghastly! When I was new to the house she came over for dinner and I accidently bumped into her when she turned around the corner and she screamed at me for fifteen minutes!” he confessed.

“It’s true. I had to assure him that he wouldn’t be out of a job because of it. You should have seen your face, Merlin!” Arthur added. His tone sounded fond.

“Oh, God! Why did you never say?” she addressed Merlin. “I can add that to my list of reasons why I loathe her!”

Merlin had only been seventeen when he’d come into their service. Before that he'd worked on the farm his mother ran on the estate. Morgana had always wondered how he'd ended up working at the house instead of staying with his mother. She'd guessed that he'd either not found a life of farming to be to his taste or, perhaps, he'd made more money at the house.  He was about a year younger than Arthur and two and a half years younger than herself. When he'd first come to the house, he’d been adorable with his gangly limbs and ears too large for his head. He’d grown since then as he now stood there at twenty-one, much more mature than the boy who would constantly trip over his own feet and was ignorant of how to tie his own tie.

Morgana was vexed to think of that boy getting screamed at by the banshee that was _the Lady Vivian_. She truly had no class.

“We took to calling her Lady Nasty-Face after that,” Arthur nodded. She caught sight of Merlin’s blush.

“Lady Nasty-Face?” Morgana asked incredulously. _Is that the best they could come up with?_

“Merlin came up with it,” Arthur explained.

Morgana turned to look at the boy to see he was glaring at the back of Arthur’s head.

“Yeah, well. She _is,_ ” he scowled and he reminded so much of a petulant child she wanted to coo at him and pinch his cheeks.

Morgana listened to the easy back and forth between Arthur and Merlin with a smile. She began to think she had misjudged their relationship. Arthur was much fonder of the boy than she’d first thought. Perhaps Gwen was right and Merlin wasn’t quite as miserable as she’d deemed him.

The afternoon passed with many laughs and jokes. Morgana didn’t think she’d been this happy without Gwen in a long time. Gwen was out visiting her father in the village where he worked as a blacksmith. She was very close with her father and Morgana, having lost her own, couldn’t begrudge her a little more time off than she was _supposed_ to have according to her employment terms. What Uther didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? And there was so much Uther didn’t know already…  

Merlin served them their luncheon, but was given his own plate and he sat with them to eat. If Uther had been present he would have made the boy sit several feet away but Morgana wanted him near so he could join in easily with their conversation and Arthur surprised her by encouraging him. It was nice with such an intimate group, Morgana thought. Everyone was so open and liberated.

While Arthur was an arse, one of Morgana’s favourite parts of their relationship was that they could speak freely to one another when in private. Their conversations sometimes perhaps bordered on _vulgar_ and Uther would probably beat Arthur if he heard him speaking in such a way in front of a lady. Morgana loved it, however, maybe even _because_ it was so inappropriate. The unashamed brashness of the conversation entertained her more than any elegant music or compulsory game of charades might hope to.

They walked back to the house in the late afternoon, just as the sky was beginning to darken. The three of them chatted easily on the journey back and Merlin seemed much happier now that his load had lightened since the food had all been devoured.

Morgana was relieved as they grew closer to the house, the front door mere minutes away. She’d exhausted herself in all the excitement of the afternoon and she knew Gwen would be back to dress her for dinner and hold her before she fell asleep.

Her pleasant musing was disrupted by someone running towards them up the drive.

“My lord!” George, the butler, called. His face looked red and he seemed rather frantic. Morgana’s breath caught. “I bring worrying news. The Lord Camelot has taken ill. The doctor is with him now.”

Morgana’s gaze shot to Arthur’s stricken face. She grabbed his sleeve to keep up with him before he shot off out of her reach.

They reached the hall and rushed up towards Uther’s bedroom. Arthur burst in without knocking. There they found Gaius, the family doctor, standing over him administering an injection.

“Ah, Arthur,” Gaius greeted with a tired smile.

“What is the matter with him?” Arthur’s voice cracked.

“I believe it to be his blood pressure, my lord,” Gaius explained. "I'd say it was brought on by stress but there's no immediate danger."

“But George, he made it seem much worse! Are you sure, Gaius?” Arthur asked sharply.

“Well, George was always a bit of a ham,” Morgana said. “And a worrier." 

Merlin bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Yes, I’m quite sure," Gaius smiled.

Arthur’s face softened, accepting Gaius’ answer. He went onto explain further.

Uther was unwell but not dying. He was not out of the woods yet, however, and he needed bed rest and Arthur would have to take on some of his responsibilities on the estate. Morgana stared at the man who had been like a father to her with great apprehension. He was asleep now with a little help from the injection Gaius had given him and his stillness unnerved her. He looked so pale and weak. Uther was never so vulnerable. Even when he slept he reminded Morgana of a bore; nostrils flaring, ready to start awake at the slightest sound and go for the attack. Now he was floppy and a sickly shade of grey. Morgana grimaced.

Despite Gaius assuring them he’d be awake in just a few hours, she was not at ease.

“Would you mind staying for the night, Gaius? We can have a room nearby made up for you and the cook can send you up a meal," Arthur requested. Morgana knew that Gaius had a wife at home who was waiting for him but she could understand Arthur’s desperation and was glad he’d asked.

“If you wish, my lord. I don’t think it will be necessary but I’ll stay just in case, if it brings you peace of mind.”

“Thank you, Gaius,” Arthur said warmly as he shook his hand. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

Morgana felt a yawn coming. Not out of boredom but out of exhaustion; both physical and emotional. She had a strong desire to curl up in bed and squeeze her eyes shut until Uther woke up and she could hear him brush the whole thing off with a booming laugh and he’d get up and head out for a ride. She wanted Gwen to get back from her father's soon so she could bury her face in her neck and breathe in her sweet scent until she felt safe. Both felt so far away.

Merlin left then to inform the staff that Gaius would be staying. Before he left, Morgana noticed him squeeze Arthur’s shoulder in a comforting gesture that she thought was more befitting of a friend than a servant. Arthur stiffened under his hold and Merlin let go, dejected.

She and Arthur were then left to sit with Uther for a while. They failed to say anything to each other for a long time as Arthur stared at his father and Morgana stared at him.

“He’ll be alright,” Morgana said and wrapped her arms around Arthur’s shoulders. He looked up at her, finally. He looked so pale and tired.

“For a moment there I thought he was going to die. I thought that we were gonna come in and find him on his death bed,” Arthur admitted. "The way that George was carrying on."

Morgana sighed and squeezed him tighter.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered so quietly she thought she’d heard wrong.

“What? How?” Morgana stuttered nearly as low as him.

“If I were a better son, if I weren't such a cause of _shame_ to him, this wouldn't have happened,” his eyes were wide as he spoke and Morgana felt unnerved. “ _I_ made this happen. What if I’m being punished?”

“For what, Arthur?” She frowned. "He _loves_ you! Why would you bring him shame?"

He shook his head.

“No, I just… I’m tired,” he started to twist out of her grip. “I think I’ll retire. It’s been a long day.” He stood up and placed a hand on his father’s forehead. “Goodnight, Father. Goodnight, Morgana,” he said and left the room.

 _Strange boy,_ Morgana thought. She didn’t linger long herself and made her way back to her room.

The room was empty when she walked in. She’d been hoping Gwen would be waiting there for her. When she wasn’t, she wondered if she was back at all. Half an hour passed and she really started to worry. What if something had happened to Gwen on her way back? What if Gwen was sick too? She rang the bell for Gwen to come to her room. They were all out of sorts that day what with Uther falling ill and Gwen’s absence.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Morgana called from her vanity table.

“My lady,” Freya curtsied.

Morgana tried to hide her disappointment.

“Where is Gwen?” she questioned.

“She is still not back, my lady,” Freya said to her feet.

“But it is dark out,” Morgana glared. She didn’t mean to but she was agitated with concern.

“I-” Freya tried but she choked on her words. Morgana flinched realising she was nervous.

“I’m sorry, I’m being sharp,” she apologised. “I’m just worried about Lord Camelot and Gwen,” she sighed. “She said she would be back by now.”

Freya had no information to offer her.

“I’m going to telephone the constable,” Morgana sighed. “Perhaps he can check in with Gwen’s father and see if she’s still there.”

She went downstairs to use the telephone.

Percival, one of the younger officers answered the phone. She relayed her problem to him and he sent someone down to go inquire as to Gwen’s whereabouts.

“I’ll phone back in twenty minutes when he gets back, my Lady,” he told her. “I’m sure she’s just lost track of time.”

She knew he was trying to reassure her but Morgana would not be appeased until she knew where Gwen was and that she was safe.

Time dragged painfully. It seemed like no one was around except Freya who came back and forth to check for news between Morgana and the kitchens. Morgana supposed that was sweet of her. She felt like her stomach was tying itself into knots and had simultaneously bottomed out. She was far more nervous about this than she had been about Uther. Perhaps it was a combination of the two. The whole night was wrecking havoc on her nerves.

Eighteen minutes later the phone rang.

“Hello?” Morgana snatched the phone off the hook and greeted the caller eagerly.

“Lady Le Fay?” Came Percival’s voice from the other end. He sounded worried. Morgana weakened.

“This is she.”

“I sent one of the boys down to Mr Smith’s cottage. He claims that Miss Smith left about two hours before we showed up.”

“But she should have been back by now!” Morgana protested.

“Seeing as she hasn’t shown up your end, we’ll send someone out to follow her route to the house to see if she’s alright. I wouldn’t be alarmed," Percival insisted. “It’s just procedure. She may have just run into a friend or is taking her time for whatever reason.”

Morgana frowned. It all sounded like a load of talk to her. She said her thanks and hung up the phone.

“Right, Freya, get my coat, would you?” She said, standing. “I’m going to go looking for her.”

It was coming up to ten and already pitch black outside. Freya looked like she wanted to argue but after a moment’s hesitation, she moved to unhook Morgana’s coat from the stand and helped her throw it on.

“What’s all this I hear about Guinevere going missing?” Arthur called as he came down the stairs. His brow was furrowed in concern. Merlin appeared behind him wearing a similar expression.

“She’s not come home. I’m going to go looking for her.”

 “Not alone, you’re not,” Arthur glared. “Merlin, get our coats.”

“Course,” he said plainly before turning away.

“We need torches,” Morgana realised.

“On it,” Freya offered her a small smile and hurried off.

“Arthur,” was all Morgana could say. Her eyes were tearing up. He pulled her against him for a hug.

“We’ll find her,” he soothed. She shook her head. She was so worried. Part of her was already prepared for the worst.

“What if something dreadful has happened to her?” She whispered.

“Shhh, don’t think like that.” But he couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t promise that she was fine because he couldn’t guarantee it. He just knew they’d find her.

Morgana let out a small sob and moved from his arms. She gave him an apologetic smile and dabbed at her tears with her handkerchief. Arthur stood there a bit awkwardly waiting for Merlin and Freya to return.

They left not five minutes later, coats and torches and all.

“Get George to sit by the phone downstairs,” Morgana instructed Freya. “You wait here.”

Freya eyed the phone warily but did as she was told. Morgana supposed it was unfair to leave the painfully shy girl to answer the phone but she couldn’t linger. She just wanted to find Gwen.

They headed out into the night and it was surprisingly cold. Morgana wrapped her coat around herself tighter and she noticed Merlin was shivering a little in his thin coat. Arthur eyed him warily and rubbed his arms a little bit.

They walked down the empty path, mostly blind other than the beams of light that came from their torches.

“Gwen!?” Merlin called very loudly.

Nothing.

“Guinevere!?” Arthur echoed and there was still nothing. Morgana willed herself to call but it got caught in her throat.

“Gwen?” She squeaked instead, without much oomph behind it.

They continued to search in the dark for her, the three of them splitting up enough to cover more ground without becoming too separated.

“We should check the woods,” Morgana suggested but it came out as more of an announcement. The police would be checking the route from the village. With no sign of Gwen as yet, Morgana was becoming more and more convinced that Gwen had taken the shortcut through the woods despite being warned not to. She felt herself grow angry and terrified all at once and charged on towards the trees.

She could feel her hysteria rising. Apparently it was readable in her body language too.

“Morgana, calm yourself,” Arthur said sternly. Morgana opted to ignore him.

“Gwen!?” She called out. Her voice was strong now. She just kept calling.

“Gwen!?” The boys called too but there was still no response.

“ARTHUR!” They heard Merlin yell a few minutes later before he disappeared down the side of a ditch… or what seemed to be a ditch.  It appeared to be much deeper when she saw Merlin’s entire six-foot frame disappear down it.

“MERLIN!” Arthur screamed and sprinted to where their friend had vanished.

Morgana ran with him worried about Merlin but praying that he’d found her.

“I’ve got her!” They heard him scream. “I’ve got her!”

Morgana wanted to vomit. She didn’t want to look but she needed to know.

“Is she alright?” Arthur took the reigns. She went to scramble down there herself but Arthur had a death grip on her.

“I think so!” Merlin replied.

“Arthur, please. Let me get to her.”

“It’ll be no good with the two of you down there. We need to get her up!” he shouted.

“She’s talking!” she heard Merlin call and she breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Arthur released her and she stumbled to the edge.

“Careful,” Arthur growled at her and held onto her coat. She wanted to slap his hand away.

“Gwen! I’m here, love. Are you alright?” She felt the fresh tears flowing.

“She says yes,” Merlin replied from where he was perched. She could hear the relief in his voice. He even laughed a little bit.

“Can you move her?” Arthur called.

“No!” Morgana protested. “You shouldn’t move her in case she’s injured her spine or neck!”

“She says it’s her foot. She passed out from the pain,” Merlin offered.

“Can you try and get her up?” Arthur repeated. There was a pause followed by a blood-curdling scream from Gwen.

“Gwen, Gwen, Gwen,” Morgana sobbed. She was clawing at the damp dirt in agitation. She needed to get down there.

“I’m gonna go catch up with the search team,” Arthur said. “I saw their lights a while back. I’ll bring them over.”

He kissed her on the forehead and sprinted off into the break of the trees. As soon as he was gone, Morgana slid down to the other side of Gwen.

“Hello, my darling, it’s alright,” she cooed, taking her face in her hands.

“Morgana,” she smiled softly. Her voice was hoarse. Morgana worried that the damp had got to her chest.

“I’m here,” she soothed and kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth.

She felt Merlin’s hand on her shoulder, reminding her that he was there too. He smiled at her in reassurance and for the first time since Gwen had gone missing, it actually helped.

She noticed he’d covered Gwen in his coat to help with the shivering. She squeezed his hand.

“We’ve been looking for you for hours,” she told her as she lay her head down next to her. “I’ve been so frightened. I thought you were dead.”

“I just fell,” Gwen shook her head. “I think my ankle is broken.”

“I thought you’d been murdered,” Morgana mumbled.

Gwen let out a misplaced laugh.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” she frowned.

“Don’t be sorry!” Morgana said fiercely. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

She saw bright lights overhead as the police approached with Arthur.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Morgana!” he groaned when he saw she wasn’t at the edge anymore.

“Don’t even start!” she countered in defiance and, to his credit, he didn’t. Arthur had the common sense to realise it was no good.

The police had sent for an ambulance and Gwen was taken to the hospital. Morgana rode with her along with Mr. Smith who had been searching along with the police.

Morgana was mostly silent as they drove and watched Mr. Smith, less formally known as Tom, fuss over his daughter.

The ordeal had truly exhausted her. Merlin and Arthur had already returned to the house, no longer needed and she was beyond grateful for their help. If Gwen had been down there another hour she might have gotten really sick or worse.  

Once they got to the hospital they examined her and confirmed their suspicions that her ankle was in fact broken. They put it in a cast and dosed her up with some strong painkillers that left Gwen a little loopy.

“What about her chest?” Morgana asked the doctor.

“From listening to it, I’d say there is nothing to worry about. She just needs to be warm and well rested,” the doctor told her.

“Thank you,” she nodded and he left.

She wanted to be alone with Gwen but her father was still there at her bedside. She tried to not be resentful but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

Gwen was much more herself after being warmed up. She was being discharged in the morning but she still had to stay the night and that was something she was really not pleased about. Gwen had never been a fan of hospitals despite briefly wanting to be a nurse like her mother had been in the war. Good thing that dream didn’t work out, after all.

She phoned for someone to pick her up and a tired looking Arthur appeared a short while later in his newest automobile. They dropped Tom off back at the cottage first to make sure he was safe before driving back to the house in hopes of catching some sleep before first light.

Before they left the hospital, Morgana had kissed Gwen on the cheek to say goodbye.

“I love you,” she'd whispered for the first time and Gwen’s eyes had lit up.

“I love you, too,” she'd smiled into Morgana’s ear. She'd thought her heart might swell with happiness. After everything they’d been through that night it was such a relief to find some joy.

“How is Uther?” Morgana asked when they were alone in the car.

“Asleep,” Arthur shrugged. “I’m glad he is, in a way,” he admitted. “I imagine he would have had something to say about running off and rescuing _servants,_ " herolled his eyes.

“Do you not agree with him then?” Morgana raised a brow. “You always seemed very keen to express your dislike of _Merlin_ in front of your father.”

He frowned at her.

“You know how Father is. If he thinks I like Merlin too much he’d only sack him.” He said this as though it was obvious and Morgana was even more confused.

“So you do like Merlin, then?” she quizzed, “because, sometimes I really can’t tell, Arthur. You can be so mean to him, even without Uther there.”

“He knows we’re friends,” Arthur supplied. “It’s just not really the done thing to be friends with your valet.”

“I’m friends with Gwen.”

“You’re a woman. That’s what you do,” Arthur snapped. He was clearly getting agitated. Morgana sunk back in her seat.

“ _Anyway_ , Merlin was a great help tonight. It was very brave of him to climb down there like that.”

“It was,” he agreed. He was tense, though, so Morgana decided to leave the topic of Merlin, Uther and anything else really alone. That left very little of interest to discuss. So instead, they sat in silence.

They pulled up outside the house and wished each other goodnight. Morgana got herself ready for bed, preferring not to call on Freya at such a late hour and also not wanting anyone to take Gwen’s place while she was gone.

She decided to go without a lady’s maid for the time being. With a broken ankle, Gwen would be off work for weeks! Morgana grimaced at the thought. She wouldn’t be able to sneak into her bedroom at night to hold her and Morgana certainly couldn’t move to the servants’ quarters. Uther would never hear of it! She would be without Gwen for who knew how long!

She felt like crying. She was exhausted and she smelt of damp, Uther was unwell and Gwen was in the _hospital._ She slowly pulled on her nightdress and crawled under the sheets. While things felt bleak, she had to be thankful that they’d been so lucky. She could have lost two people she loved that night.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some nsfw aspects to this chapter but nothing explicit.

A few weeks had passed since Gwen’s accident and she was _finally_ back at work. Despite this, Morgana was not letting her do much. Gwen, however, had other ideas and had surprised her with breakfast in bed that morning and was now fussing over things in her wardrobe.

“You could be injured again and then where would I be?” Morgana pouted. “I need you.”

Gwen giggled.

“I just want to take your dress in, Morgana. It’s _hanging_ off you,” she said the last bit with a grimace. Morgana knew she’d dropped some weight with the stress of the accident. Uther had also been concerning her. While seemingly okay, he was still more lethargic than he used to be and Arthur had, as promised, had to take on more of Uther's duties on the estate.

“Okay then," Morgana agreed to Gwen's request. "Only if you get into bed with me,” she smirked and lifted the sheets. After a few complaints about creasing her uniform, Gwen complied and got in. She nestled into Morgana’s neck and kissed her way down her chest. She thought she felt her smile against her cleavage. Morgana moaned slightly.

Gwen looked up sharply. Her eyes had darkened.

“I love you,” she told her and Morgana nodded before capturing her lips in a kiss. Gwen surprised her by pinning her down against he sheets and Morgana gasped as kisses were pressed to her pulse point.

They hadn’t had the opportunity to be close ever since Gwen had broken her ankle and it had certainly never been like _this_ before. She supposed their separation had made them just a little bit desperate. Morgana rocked her hips as Gwen settled in between her legs.

Morgana rolled them over and pushed Gwen onto her back and kissed her fiercely. She was about to hike up Gwen’s skirts when there was a knock at the door.

Gwen scrambled out from underneath her and tried to right her uniform. Morgana fussed over straightening the sheets and not looking too flushed. Gwen opened the door a crack and smiled. She recognised Merlin’s voice murmuring something. Gwen’s smile fell.

“Okay, thank you,” she said softly and turned to Morgana with a sympathetic look. “Morgana,” she sighed.

Morgana eyed her suspiciously. That look and tone of voice never belonged to a bearer of good news.

“Lord Camelot took ill again last night,” she said.

“Is he alright?” Morgana gasped. Gwen nodded and Morgana heaved a sigh of relief.

“Gaius came out to him and examined him. He had a funny turn last night. He's alright now, just tired."

Morgana's stomach dropped and Gwen returned to the bed and wrapped her in her arms.

“Gaius said his health is declining but with the right care there is a strong chance he _will_ recover,” Gwen informed her in a soft voice. 

“I need to get dressed,” Morgana told her coldly. Gwen flinched a little at Morgana’s change of tone but Morgana didn’t have it in her to feel bad. This must be her fault. Uther had started to get sick as soon as Morgana had become intimate with Gwen. She didn’t want to think it because she was so happy… but what if they were connected?

Morgana dressed quickly and arrived in Uther’s room where Arthur sat quietly. Uther was asleep and was once again that sickly shade of grey.

“How is he?” She asked. Arthur turned at the sound of her voice and smiled. He held out his hand. She took it.

“Just sleeping.”

His hand was warm and solid and comforting. He wasn’t so much like a boy anymore but more a man. When did that happen? Morgana mused. Little Arthur, all grown up.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without him,” he said. The implication that Arthur believed Uther _was_ going to die didn’t escape her. “I’m not ready to take all this on, on my own.” He gestures to their surroundings with his free hand.

“I’ve always felt like my father was immortal,” he murmured. “This is just a painful reminder that even _Uther Pendragon_ can’t fight death.”

Morgana didn’t know what to say. She wanted to say _“he’ll be fine, he’s Uther,”_ but it felt like a lie. Uther was fifty-six, and, while no spring chicken, he was by no means old enough to _die._  If he was already becoming infirm, who knew what kind of life was ahead for him.

She had a charity meeting at noon so she had to leave them just after ten. She and her group were discussing fundraising ideas for the local school and while Morgana would usually be leading the meeting and drawing up action plans she just couldn’t stay focused. They were in the village hall and Elena was giving an _inspiring_ speech about a bake sale that would probably do just fine to raise the funds they needed. It wasn’t very imaginative but Morgana supposed it would be good for her to take the floor for once. She seemed to be glowing with newfound confidence. Gwen was in attendance too, though she was sitting three rows from the back. She hadn’t seen her since that morning and she turned around and offered a smile hoping it wouldn’t fall flat. Gwen smiled back and it made the room that little bit brighter.

After the meeting, Morgana made pleasantries with the other ladies and the townswomen. Some, who had heard about Uther, sent their well wishes which Morgana accepted politely. She glanced to the back of the room where she saw Gwen waiting for her in a grey coat and lilac hat. She knew the dress under it was the pretty lilac one. The same one she’d worn the afternoon they’d got caught in the rain and Gwen had landed in the mud. Morgana smiled at the memory. She caught Gwen’s eye from where she was peering around looking for her and she smiled.

“I’m sorry if I was short this morning,” Morgana said as they left the hall together.

“Were you?” Gwen frowned. “It’s alright if you were. It can’t have been bad because I barely remember it.”

Morgana smirked. Gwen probably did remember. She was just too nice to argue over something so small.

Gwen launched into questions about Uther which Morgana answered. Truth be told she was becoming tired of talking about Uther. She obviously had to but she’d rather not think about it. It made her far too stressed.

They made it back to the house in time for a late lunch which they took together in Morgana’s room. They served themselves as Morgana didn’t want it to look like she was playing favourites in the servants’ hall. That could make things difficult for Gwen. With only the two of them there, it would appear as though Gwen was serving Morgana instead of dining _with her._

After Gwen had returned downstairs, Morgana decided to take a trip to the library to catch up on some reading. As she turned the corner near Arthur's bedroom she caught a glimpse of something. She paused momentarily to inspect it.

She saw Arthur and Merlin stood together. They were talking and smiling. Arthur clearly wasn’t kidding or telling half-truths when he said they were friends. But then he peered around to see if anyone was watching before placing a gentle kiss on Merlin’s lips. Merlin responded by wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck and kissing him harder and Morgana could have _sworn_  she heard Arthur moan before he pushed Merlin off.

“Someone’ll see,” Arthur warned but she could hear the smile in his voice. Merlin nodded reverently, looking guilty.

Morgana’s initial reaction was to be shocked. Arthur was… well, he was a homosexual! Her next response was to be excited. This meant they were alike, that she was not alone! Then she felt annoyed because she’d been in the dark about it and felt foolish for buying into Arthur’s facade. Then again, she’d been hiding the same things he had and it wasn’t like she couldn’t understand his position. It didn't help her confusion, though. Suddenly it seemed that she didn't know Arthur at all. She'd lived with him eight years and now, after all of that, she didn't know how much was a pretence and how much was truth. Had every arrogant, nasty comment aimed at Merlin just been a subterfuge? Who was Arthur Pendragon? 

Finally, Morgana felt fear. She couldn’t believe how stupid they were being! In all that time she’d never suspected them and now here they were kissing in corridors! If the wrong person saw, who knew what the repercussions would be? She knew that men could be persecuted for what the state deemed _indecent_ behaviours but you never really heard about it happening outside of scandalous stories about men in seedy clubs doing obscene things to one another. Or, at least, those were the claims you heard from more provocative members of society hoping to get a reaction. Whether or not those stories were true, however, she did not know. Morgana had always found the thought of that rather ghastly, but she'd started to suspect, for some time, that what she'd heard about it was not altogether true. 

Morgana didn’t know what to do. Did she reveal herself or did she pretend she was ignorant of their relationship? If she told Arthur, she knew she risked him panicking and hating her. However, she could also be honest with him herself. Did she want that? Did she want someone else to know about her and Gwen? Someone who understood? Or maybe he wouldn’t.

Who was to say _Arthur_ would understand at all? Who was to say that Arthur and Merlin’s relationship was anything _like_ what she and Gwen had? It might just be physical. It might not _mean_ anything to Arthur and by telling him about Gwen she might ruin everything. She would have to ask Gwen what she thought. Despite all her instincts telling her to confront them right then and there, she couldn’t make such a huge decision for the both of them on her own. She decided it was a very rational decision and she silently congratulated herself.

She saw the two of them part ways and held back before heading in the direction of Arthur.

“There you are!” she grinned, maybe a little falsely. He looked surprised to see her. She imagined he was probably calculating if she could have possibly seen them. _Yes,_ _you ninny,_ she thought. _Yes, I saw you locking lips with your manservant._ She didn’t let it show on her face, though. She engaged him in conversation about Uther’s health. He wasn’t much improved since that morning but he wasn’t any worse either. There was an air of acceptance between them.

Morgana was itching to get back to Gwen to tell her what she’d seen. She had a long wait, though, as it wasn’t until that evening that she was able to dine with Gwen in her room. As Uther was ill, Arthur deemed it unnecessary to have the footmen and the butler all come out to serve them. Instead, the pair of them took dinner in their separate rooms. Morgana supposed this meant he was also with Merlin.

“I saw something today,” Morgana started, pushing around her potatoes on her plate.

“Mmm?” Gwen looked up with intrigue and a hint of confusion. She’d been quite fixated on her meal when Morgana had spoken.

“Merlin and Arthur,” She said.

Gwen’s eyes widened in recognition.

“I saw-“ Morgana cut herself off when she registered Gwen’s expression. “You already knew, didn’t you!?” she glared.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Gwen frowned innocently though she was clearly anything but.

“About Merlin and Arthur! That they are lovers!”

Gwen looked down, seemingly ashamed.

“Gwen!”

“Yes,” she sighed. “How did you find out?”

“I saw them kissing!”

Gwen looked at her in alarm.

“I know! They’re fools, the pair of them. It took all my restraint not to go over right away and slap them both,” Morgana complained. “And anyway, how did _you_ know? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me?” She pouted at that last part and Gwen bit her lip guiltily.

“Merlin asked me not to. Arthur doesn’t know that I know,” she explained. “Merlin and I are good friends and we talk. I’ve known for some time,” Gwen continued.

“Does Merlin know about us?”

Gwen nodded.

“Does Arthur?”

“ _No!_ ” Gwen insisted, “Merlin promised not to tell, and Merlin is good at keeping secrets; even from Arthur.”

Morgana took some time to process this. She was wounded that Gwen hadn’t trusted her with this secret but she could understand why. It wasn’t hers to tell and she’d be damned if she would get mad at her about it.

“What are they to each other?” Morgana asked softly.

“Everything,” Gwen smiled. “Like you are to me.”

Morgana blushed at the sneaky compliment. If she didn’t know any better she’d say Gwen was trying to sweeten her up.

“They are in love,” Morgana sighed. Somehow the clarification made her sad. It wasn’t fair that they had to hide it like she and Gwen did. At the same time, she was pleased Arthur wasn’t completely heartless. This proved that he _could_ love.

“Yes,” Gwen confirmed and took Morgana’s hand. She caressed it gently and brought it to her lips.

Knowing that it was love that drove them to be so reckless made her less angry at them. Hell, sometimes she felt like doing the same. She’d simply have to tell them she knew and then chastise them for their slip up. All it took was just _one._ She could already see the colour drain from Arthur’s face as it inevitably would when she told him.

“I’ve been thinking about this morning,” Morgana confessed, changing the subject with a suggestive tone.

Gwen looked up curiously. She knew Gwen could see her blush. Gwen herself was averting her eyes and her cheeks had slightly tinged pink. It was funny how she should be shy about this after the way she had behaved that morning.

“What about it?” Gwen prompted innocently.

“I was thinking about how much I enjoyed it; how I’d like to do it again,” she confessed and kissed Gwen’s hand.

Morgana didn’t think Gwen a natural seductress, despite all her charms, and she didn’t think Gwen would be the one to lead the way in this first endeavour. In all honesty, she didn’t have a clue how two women were to go about such a thing herself. She could imagine, of course, but she didn’t know the details. What if she was terribly disappointing to Gwen?

“I’m nervous,” Morgana said, deciding it was best, to be honest.

“Me too,” Gwen blushed.

They agreed to take it slow, to not do anything they were unsure of and to take their time. So, after dinner, Gwen and Morgana sat by the fire in her bedroom, door locked, talking to each other softly about this and that. Morgana leaned in for a kiss which Gwen returned and they lay out on the rug.

Three hours later they were lying in each other’s arms, their bare flesh being warmed by the fire.

“I’ve been thinking," Morgana started. "You and I should take a trip to London."

Gwen nuzzled her neck to show she was listening.

“We can visit with my sister,” Morgana continued. “We can go shopping, I'll buy you a pretty new dress and we can go dancing." 

“Maybe you can dance, my love,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’m still recovering from a broken ankle.”

Morgana paused. She’d forgotten about that for the moment, caught up in the bliss of the evening. She squeezed Gwen closer, remembering how scared she’d been of losing her.

“We’ll go in a few months when it’s all healed. I promise,” Morgana whispered and closed her eyes.

They resolved that they needed to get to bed. It wouldn’t suit either of them to fall asleep on the floor. Their neck and backs would certainly ache in the morning.

Morgana climbed under the sheets and beckoned to Gwen to join her.

“I can’t, my lady. I will fall asleep,” she said with normal formalities, only now when Gwen called her _my lady_ it was done with a cheeky smirk.

“I know,” Morgana smirked sleepily. “I want you to.”

“Won’t it look suspicious?” Gwen frowned.

“No, there’s nothing suspicious about maidservant staying by her lady’s side when her guardian is very sick,” Morgana reasoned. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you were staying up with me and you fell asleep.”

Gwen agreed, much to Morgana’s pleasure and climbed under the sheets.

They settled into a peaceful sleep. Their limbs wrapped around each other. Morgana awoke briefly in the night and smiled when she saw that Gwen was still with her. She nestled her face back in the crook of her neck and pulled her closer to her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave feedback and hopefully Kudos!! xxx


	6. Chapter Six

Morgana confronted Arthur a week later. She got him alone in his bedroom which was, of course, highly improper but this was _Morgana_ dealing with _Arthur_ and it was 1928, not the eighteen hundreds.

“I know about Merlin,” she said plainly.

Arthur visibly stiffened.

“What about him?” he asked tightly.

“To be direct, I know that the two of you are lovers,” Morgana replied, aiming for casual but it came across a little taunting. Arthur turned around so sharply that he didn’t have time to compose himself. He looked aghast.

“What – what are you talking about?” He struggled to find the appropriate tone to ask the question. He started with outraged but by the end, he’d moved onto cold. He shifted nervously while waiting for her reply.

“I saw you kissing in the hall.”

The colour drained from his face just as she’d imagined it would. He knew that was a solid piece of evidence and he’d never be able to convince Morgana that she was mistaken.

Instead of speaking he sat down on the bed.

“What are you going to do?” he sighed, dejected.

She figured he’d been punished enough for his incompetence.

“I’m not going to do _anything._ I’m just telling you so you know that _I know_ and also to call you an _idiot_ for being so reckless; _which_ I shall do right now by the way. You’re an idiot.”

Arthur looked up and frowned at her. Then he laughed in relief.

“You don’t despise me? You’re not going to expose me?”

She approached him and stroked his hair in the form of possessive affection she only ever showed to him in private.

“Of course not, I was just angry at you for being foolish.”

“How can you not hate me?” he asked in wonder.

She understood how he must feel. She’d had nightmares for months about what Arthur and Uther would do if they ever found out, how they would look on her with disgust. In one nightmare, Arthur had tried to strangle her. She wouldn’t ever tell him about this, mind. She hadn’t even told Gwen about it.

Arthur could only have felt the same.

“Because you’re the closest thing I have to a brother and I love you,” she said softly and kissed his forehead. She saw the surprise on his face and she stifled a chuckle. She knew she was harsh on Arthur a lot but he wasn’t completely terrible, that was for sure. She heard him sniffle a little bit. “Shhh,” she soothed and wiped his tears. He leant his head against her chest, seeking comfort.

“You don’t know how relieved I am,” he said into her dress, only it came out as a mumble - a mumble accompanied with a little sob.

“I think I do,” Morgana started. “Arthur, there’s more.”

He looked up at her then and she started shaking. She sank down next to him on the bed.

“Morgs? What is it?” Arthur asked, concerned.

“I-I,” she stuttered, but she couldn’t say it. Even after everything, she couldn’t say it. Arthur looked at her, both worried and frightened.

“I love Gwen,” she finally admitted. She paused, waiting for Arthur to comprehend what she’d just said. “I’m in love with her,” she clarified. “We’re together.”

Arthur sat in silence for a moment. She started to worry that he was going to be angry. She feared he’d say it was different for women, that she was mad. Then he started laughing. It started as a little then it turned onto a full guffaw.

Morgana didn’t know what to make of it until he hugged her.

“Morgs,” he chuckled, “is it true?”

“Of course!” she glared. “I wouldn’t make this up!”

“No, of course not!” he said and started laughing again.

“Why are you laughing?” she snapped, feeling betrayed.

“Just _us_ , Morgs. God, I thought I was the only one,” he admitted. “I thought if you ever found out you’d hate me! I’ve tried so hard to hide my affections. I’ve spent so long-” he shook his head in disbelief. “Tell me everything!” he was suddenly excited, gripping her hands like they were a lifeline.

“Only if you tell me,” she countered. And he did.

Morgana felt a sense of satisfaction that could only come with a revelation such as this. Arthur revealed that he and Merlin had met when Arthur had still been at Eton and was home for a visit. The two had not got off on the right foot, they had actually almost gotten into a fight, and their meetings after that had been pretty much a variation on a theme: unplanned and catty.

They had, however, ended up becoming unlikely friends when Merlin had come to work at the house. It wasn't until that year when Arthur had graduated from Cambridge and had returned home that the nature of their relationship had changed.

“He understands why I must ridicule him in front of father,” Arthur explained. “He- he’s confronted me about it in the past. My friendships with men, that is.”

Morgana looked at him in shock. _Uther knew?_

“It wasn’t about Merlin. It was about Gwaine.”

Morgana remembered Gwaine. He was the son of one of Uther’s associates who’d died during the war. He’d come to Camelot on business a few summers ago.

“He said that he thought we were _too close._ He wasn’t direct about it. He just told me to spend less time with him. I guess he saw something between us. Maybe I looked at him too much, I don’t know,” Arthur shrugged.

“Did you and Gwaine…?” Morgana trailed off.

Arthur nodded and squeezed his eyes shut.

“It wasn’t love,” he shrugged. “For a while, I thought it was. I was a bit infatuated. It was the first time anyone had ever approached the subject without disgust. He told me…” he looked away embarrassed, “that flesh was flesh. He said that there was no such thing as natural or unnatural attraction; that it was all the same. He was quite the liberal thinker. I liked the way he saw things,” he chuckled coldly. “Then after… after that dinner party, the night of Tristan‘s engagement, he came up to my room. He said it was a bit of fun. Uh, and that’s all,” he sounded sad as he recounted the experience.

She supposed Gwaine was his first and Morgana’s chest tightened at the thought of seventeen-year-old Arthur being used like that. Gwaine had been quite the happy-go-lucky type of guy and quite a few years older than Arthur. He wouldn’t have meant to hurt him but he should have known better.

“He’s married now,” Arthur commented flippantly. “For love not just out of obligation. It’s not the same for him.”

“Are you not attracted to women at all?”

“No,” he said plainly. “I’ve tried, I _really truly did,_ but it was lacking,” he explained. “Then when I first kissed Gwaine and then _Merlin,_ God, it just seemed impossible to change.”

“I know how you feel,” she half laughed half sighed. The deeper she fell in love with Gwen the more and more repulsed she became at the thought of being with a man. Once she had thought she simply needed to find a husband and she would be fine. Now the thought made her want to throw herself from the highest point of the house. “The thought of ever marrying a man out of _social expectation_ scares me half to death.”

Arthur was silent for a moment.

“I have a mad idea,” he smiled suddenly. Morgana eyed him warily. “Marry me.”

“ _What?_ ” she spluttered and moved away slightly.

“You and I, we’re never going to fall in love with anyone we can marry. I love you like a sister and you me like a brother. We can be _happy,_ Morgs. I won’t make you sleep in my bed and there will be no _marital duties,_ ” he said the last thing with venomous distaste. “It’ll just be me, you, Merlin and Gwen. We can go to Europe for a few years, maybe settle down somewhere, get a house by the coast. We won't have to answer to anyone, Morgs, hell they don't even have to know _who we are._ ”

Morgana looked at him in shock. He made it all sound so simple, so desirable.

“I don’t know.”  

“Look, we don’t have to do it _now._ We don’t have to announce our engagement, either. Just know that I don’t intend to marry, and when you – _if you_ \- ever feel the need, then I’ll be here and we can have _some semblance_ of a life,” he smiled hopefully. “I’m also quite the eligible bachelor. I just added that in, in case you forgot.”

Morgana laughed at his silliness.

“Well then, Arthur. I shall consider it,” she looked at him fondly, feeling as though they were closer then than they ever had been since they’d known each other. How do you live with someone for eight years and not know them? How strange it is how quickly things can change.

She didn’t tell Gwen about Arthur’s offer. She would tell her when she’d made up her mind or, at least, decided that she _wanted_ to make up her mind about it. She wouldn’t be able to decide this without Gwen’s input.

When Gwen’s ankle was healed they took that long awaited trip to London. They stayed with her sister, Morgause, who was alone since her husband, Cenred, has away in France on “business”. Morgana suspected there was no business at all, more rather another woman. Either way, she was relieved. She found him intolerable.

“We’re rather looking to relax,” Morgana told her sister over the phone. “I was hoping to treat Gwen after the whole business with her ankle.”

She’d written and told her all about it when it had happened. Morgause was familiar with Gwen through years of Morgana’s letters as well as her biyearly visits to her London home. When Morgana had first moved to Camelot, Morgause had been in Italy. Morgana had been angry at her sister for a while for not coming home when their parents had died; abandoning her at such a terrible time. She forgave her, though, as she grew older and understood how _difficult_ Cenred could be. He hadn’t wanted Morgause to return to England and so she could not; and then when he'd wished her to, she had.

She and Gwen arrived late in the afternoon. The weather was kind of dreary and Gwen pulled a face as she fumbled through her bag for an umbrella while Morgana looked around for Morgause’s car.

“Morgana!” She heard Morgause call. She looked across the pavement to see her car pull up at the side of the street. She opened the door and gestured for them to rush in.

Both she and Gwen hurried into the back of the car. It was a bit of a squash but they were thankful to be sheltered before the worst of the rain started. 

“Morgana, darling! I’m so glad you’re here,” her sister greeted warmly. “And Gwen, it is nice to see you too. I hear you had an accident?”

“That I did, my lady,” Gwen said, embarrassed. “It was not serious, though. I am in much better health now.”

 _But you could have died,_ Morgana thought. She didn’t voice these thoughts, though, not wanting to dwell on the matter.

“I’m glad to hear it," Morgause said before turning back to her sister to fuss over her. 

Morgause was a beautiful looking woman. Unlike Morgana, she had brown eyes and fair blonde hair that she wore cropped to her jaw. They were nothing alike to look at, which had always struck Morgana as odd, but Morgause was one of Morgana's closest friends as well as her sister.

They arrived at Morgause’s home with time to spare for a late luncheon.

“Gwen, will you dine with us?” Morgause asked, openly.

“Wh-what?” Gwen stammered, wide-eyed. Morgana worried she thought she was making fun of her.

“Yes, please do, Gwen,” she encouraged.

“Don’t be nervous, kitten,” Morgause smiled. “It’s a genuine invitation.”

“I couldn’t possibly-“

“Yes, you could,” Morgana pushed, overjoyed at the prospect. “Really, Guinevere, we’re all friends here. I promised you a holiday and here it is!”

Gwen eventually gave in and settled down to a luncheon of cold meats.

“So,” Morgause started the conversation after a few mouthfuls, “how long have you two been lovers?”

Morgana choked on the water she was sipping.

“What?!” she gasped.

Gwen remained frozen and silent next to her.

“I’m not an idiot, ‘Gana, nor am I a prude. We’ve _all_ had female, lovers. In fact, I find them to be far more satisfying and immeasurably more _practical_ if you know what I mean,” Morgause chuckled.

Morgana stared at her sister in shock. She’d always thought these kinds of relationships were rare and never spoken about. Now it happened that her own sister had gone to bed with women too and Arthur _exclusively_ went to bed with men. Was _everyone_ doing it or was this just a catching thing going on around her nearest and dearest?

“Well,” Morgana coughed nervously, afraid to look at Gwen for fear of her expression.

“Champagne!” Gwen suddenly exclaimed taking Morgana by surprise.

“Yes! Why not?” Morgause rejoiced and got up to ring the bell for the butler to bring some up.

Morgana was still looking at Gwen perplexed. 

"Sorry," Gwen bit her lip. "It's just... I've always wanted to do that... and I was nervous."

The butler came in bearing a bottle of champagne and three glasses. Morgana sensed some distaste towards Gwen as he poured her glass and Morgana stared him down, watching him shrink like a slug covered in salt under her gaze. 

Morgause’s staff had significantly diminished since the war. She kept only a butler, a housemaid, a cook, and a nanny. She no longer even kept a lady’s maid, preferring to dress herself. Morgana supposed if it weren’t for Gwen then she herself would rather do without too.

They spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening chatting animatedly. Morgause offered up a number of exciting anecdotes regarding the many lovers she’d taken up with in Cenred’s absence.

“Of course, the beauty of female lovers is that you never have to worry about being _caught,_ ” she said meaningfully. “I had a friend during the war that fell pregnant… _while her husband was in France._ ”

“My God!” Morgana shrieked. “What did she do?”

Morgause mimed a tugging motion. “ _Hoik.”_

Morgana turned to Gwen who just shook her head grimly.

“Oh, dear God,” Morgana whimpered. Her legs crossed without her permission just at the thought. “Was she alright?”

“I suppose so," Morgause shrugged. “There were no complications but she wasn’t happy about it, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Morgana repeated and took Gwen’s hand. At first, Gwen seemed to freeze but soon remembered they were in safe company.

“I think I shall retire,” Morgana said sleepily, just as the clock struck twelve.

“Wise decision, little sister,” Morgause said. “I intend to take you both to Avalon tomorrow night!”

Avalon was the new swanky dance club that had just opened up near by. Morgana didn’t know much about it but from Morgause’s letters, it sounded divine. She had little opportunity to go dancing in Camelot as it was such a rural area. She only had the opportunity on her visits to London and Morgause always hosted the most delightful evenings out.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Morgause said, ever the modern woman.

She led them upstairs to a guest room and opened the door which enjoined them together.

She didn’t say anything about it, just showed Gwen to the room that she _may_ stay in if she wished, though clearly didn’t expect her to as she didn’t even bother to open the door to show her in.

Morgause made herself scarce after kissing Morgana goodnight and offering Gwen a sweet smile.

“Well that went well,” Gwen said awkwardly.

Morgana burst out laughing, at a loss for something to do. She grabbed Gwen by the hand and tugged her down the bed.

“Can you believe that just happened?” she chuckled.

“No, not really,” Gwen bit her lip but a cheeky smile tugged them up. “Do you think it’ll be alright… that she won’t change her mind?”

“All will be well, my love. Morgause is my sister – she just wants me to be happy!”

It gave them both the hope that one-day others would think like Morgause. The freedom this would allow them made Morgana feel drunk and giddy.

“I love you,” she told Gwen, sincerely.

“I love you too, with all my heart,” Gwen replied.

The next night was as divine as promised. She and Gwen wore new dresses they’d purchased that afternoon. Gwen had never worn anything quite like it and Morgana could tell as she spun her around.

“It’s so lovely!” Gwen beamed. The dress was knee length with some tassels at the hem for detail. The entire dress was heavily beaded and sequined in a stunning gold that made Gwen look even more like an angel than she normally did. Morgana’s was a similar fashion though hers was an emerald green with silver detailing.

“I’m so excited!” Gwen continued and Morgana basked in her happiness. She wanted to show Gwen off tonight, spin her around the floor. No one would be any the wiser, of course, about the nature of their relationship. People would just think them very good friends which they were, of course, but so much more at the same time.

“Come on, ladies!” Morgause called from outside the door. “If we don’t leave soon I’ll be squiffy before we even get in the car!”

“Coming!” Morgana called back. She grabbed the perfume from her dresser and quickly sprayed her neck and wrists. “Here,” she said, also spraying Gwen with the scent. “I want to mark you as _mine._ ”

Gwen smiled and leant in to kiss her softly. “I am yours.”

“Mmmm,” Morgana hummed against her lips.

“For the love of-“ Morgause grumbled, exasperated, outside the door. They heard a glass being slammed down rather roughly on one of the cabinets outside. “Hurry up or I’m coming in to _pry_ you two apart. I don’t care what state you’re in, either!”

Morgana swiftly opened the door and smiled at her sister. Gwen was surely blushing behind her but it was amusing.

“Your chariot awaits, ladies!” Morgause called as she sauntered down the stairs towards the front door. Her butler waited with her coat and she slipped into it gracefully. Morgana smirked at her sister’s dramatics. For most of Morgause’s childhood she had been an only child. Morgana had been born when she was nine after it seemed their mother would have no more children. Morgana had been something of a miracle child and Morgause had maybe resented that… but not anymore apparently. She supposed the fact they were both orphans now made silly jealousies easier to let go of. There was no one’s affection to fight over anymore, only each others.

The club was swinging when they arrived. Gwen’s eyes glowed in awe of her surroundings – the lights, the music, the people and the ladies’ dresses – Morgana’s glowed in awe of _her._ Gwen looked so beautiful like this. She was beautiful any time or place, regardless, to be sure, but there was something intrinsically divine about her like this. Morgana felt her chest tighten at the thought of the mundanity of Gwen’s life back at Camelot and her ‘lowly’ position as a serving girl. If Morgana had the power she would change the rules of society so Gwen could walk in the class she belonged, for her to exist with her as her equal and her partner – _wife,_ maybe even. Her mind flashed back to Arthur’s offer of marriage and Europe, maybe somewhere in France or Belgium. She could see the four of them lounging by the fire together as a sort of untraditional family. They could be happy and above all _free._

 _I don’t want to be brave anymore,_ she thought, _I just want to be myself._

“Morgana!” Gwen squealed as the band began to pick up the tempo.

“Would you like to dance?” Morgana asked.

Gwen bit her lip.

“Perhaps after a drink?” Morgana suggested. Gwen didn’t normally drink alcohol so she looked nervous. “Only a little one, Gwen; I can get you an orange juice if you’d like.”

Gwen looked around self-consciously.

“No, I’ll have one, whatever you’re having… please,” Gwen smiled.

Morgana giggled and took her hand, leading her towards the bar. Morgause had already sauntered off in the direction of some of her friends. Morgana realised that she was going to have to go over and see them eventually, she couldn’t hide out with Gwen the whole evening, it would look rude.

“Alright, my love, what will it be?” the chap behind the bar asked when Morgana leant against the bar. She gave him an easy smile.

“Two Gin Rickeys with just a _pinch_ of sugar, please,” she beamed, as though she’d done it dozens of times. In truth she’d only been to one of these places _twice_ and only once been up to the bar. She’d been rehearsing her order in her head though, and she was proud of how casual she’d seemed. Gwen seemed impressed too and tugged her closer to her side. Morgana felt the shocks of pleasure where their bare arms touched. She loved how she could enjoy these moments with Gwen now without feeling guilty.

The barman handed over two tall glasses of slightly cloudy liquid that contrasted with the bright green of the limes in the drink. Gwen eyed them up curiously.

“Just sip it slow,” Morgana winked and led her over to where Morgause was entertaining her friends. There were some she’d met before, Nimueh, Alvarr and Cornelius. The others Morgana didn’t care to learn the names of, save one: Aredian, who Morgana took an instant disliking to. He stared her and Gwen up and down far too much and positioned himself way too close to Morgause when he spoke to her.

Thankfully, being the ‘young ones’ Morgana and Gwen were easily excused to go listen to the band up front. They stood holding their drinks and tapping their toes for a long while before they finished and proceeded to take a turn on the dance floor. Gwen surprised her by swinging her around. They giggled though it could barely be heard over the music. A moderately handsome looking man in his mid to late twenties asked if he could cut in and dance with one of them, but Morgana refused and had sold him the story that their beaus were in the navy and were away on service and it just _wouldn’t do_ for them to be dancing with handsome men now, would it? It had shut him up.

Then a singer came out, an American jazz singer who the bill identified as Aglain Dru.

“Oh my God, Morgana!  I love this number!” Gwen exclaimed, delighted, when the band started playing.

He began singing as did Gwen, knowing every word. He waved to her from upstage and Gwen beamed and waved back in excitement.

Some time later he held out his hand for Gwen to join him on the stage and, after turning to Morgana for reassurance this was really happening, she took it.

He offered the microphone for her to share and she blushed shaking her head. He nodded in encouragement, all the while not missing a note. He moved the mic again and this time Gwen started joining in. Their voices worked well together, Morgana decided. Gwen had always been a lovely singer. She’d sung Morgana off to sleep on a number of occasions with her angelic tones. People were really paying attention now and Aglain tilted the mic towards Gwen for her to do the next chorus. She looked at him in surprise but, bless her, she kept going. Morgana cheered in delight. 

“Go, Gwen!” She cried in excitement. Gwen looked at her and pulled a face communicating how awkward she was feeling right then. Morgana had to laugh. It was such a juxtaposition to the jazz queen she looked in her flapper dress and with an angel voice.

She disappeared after the song ended and went somewhere with Aglain. When he returned to the stage to do another number, with no Gwen in sight, Morgana started to get worried. Then she felt a warmth against her side and a waft of sweet perfume that smelt subtly different than it did on Morgana.

“Gwen!” she smiled.

“What a rush!” Gwen beamed that devastating smile and Morgana wanted to weep with adoration.

“That was amazing!”

Gwen bent her head shyly. “I don’t know about that,” she said. “But they’ve asked me to come sing in a couple of days in the afternoon, y’know? When it’s not too busy, I mean, to try me out!”

“Oh, wow, Gwen! That’s amazing!” Morgana praised though there was a slight sinking feeling in her gut about it. 

Gwen smiled, oblivious.

“I don’t know if I’ll do it, though,” she shrugged. “I’m nervous.”

“Nonsense! You must do it!” Morgana grinned. “It’ll be fun! I’ll come watch!”

Gwen, albeit reluctantly, agreed and asked Morgana to dance again.

“I think we should be going!” a tipsy Morgause approached them sometime later. “Cracking bit up there, Gwen!”

“Thank you,” Gwen bit her lip.

The drive home was quiet but not uncomfortable. Then, after some warm goodnights, she and Gwen retired to _their_ room. Morgana was still giddy at the fact they could sleep in the same room openly in her sister’s house. She loved it, in fact. Perhaps they could move here so it could be like this all the time.

Once the door was closed she wasted no time in stalking towards where Gwen was removing her jewellery and laying it out on the dresser. Morgana kissed the back of her neck and she could practically sense Gwen’s smile in response. Her neck was warm and smelt tantalisingly sweet. Morgana slid her long fingers across Gwen’s shoulders to the zip and the back of her dress and slowly slid it down.

She turned slightly to place a soft kiss on Morgana’s jaw, moving slowly towards her lips.

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she whispered.

“No, thank you,” Morgana replied. “Thank you for being so wonderful,” she kissed her, “so beautiful,” she kissed her again, more fiercely this time. “Thank you for being mine.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Gwen rolled her eyes before shucking off her dress.

They undressed each other slowly.  _P_ _ainfully so_ , Morgana thought. She was aching by the time her Gwen, turned seductress, led her to the bed.

They whispered endearments and declarations of love as they moved with each other beneath the sheets. Morgana struggled to stifle moans and gasps but it was no use. She didn’t think anyone was around to hear anyway.

She wasn’t entirely sure what the hour was when they fell asleep. It must have been very late, or early (depending which way you look at it) as the sun was already starting to rise ever so slightly. Even though she didn’t get much sleep, Morgana awoke in the most blissful mood with her beloved in her arms.


	7. Chapter Seven

Morgana wanted to be happy for her, she really did! Only, it didn’t come easy – not when she was reminded of the reality that she was going to be without her.

Gwen’s show at Avalon went splendidly and they asked her to come on board as a backup singer, perhaps even front her own show eventually. At first, Morgana had been excited, Gwen certainly had…

“I never thought myself a singer!” she’d exclaimed. “Won’t it be glamorous?”

Initially, Morgana was going to stay on in London with her to see how it all panned out. She had been fine with the arrangements then, quite excited about them honestly. But then she’d got the call from Arthur saying that Uther had taken ill again, that he’d taken him to see some city doctors and now Gaius didn’t think there was much more to be done either.

“It’s cancer, Morgs,” Arthur had said on the phone. “He’s really sick this time.”

She hadn’t expected it, not really. They’d been told Uther was getting better… but now this was something else. Arthur had made Uther go to a London doctor on Gaius’ insistence after Uther had taken ill _again_ and they’d found the tumours in his brain.

It could be weeks, maybe months, but not years, that much was certain… or at least very unlikely. Morgana didn’t like to apply the rules of your typical man to Lord Uther Pendragon. They’d never fit him and he did so hate to be predictable.  

Now, Morgana was going to have to return to Camelot alone. Gwen had offered to come with her but Morgana had insisted she stay in London with Morgause and see where this opportunity took her. She’d been miserable about it on the train journey back, though. She knew she had a duty to Uther and she couldn’t expect Gwen to give up on a chance for… well, whatever this was… but it was all so unfair. She’d had had Gwen completely to herself for a week and a half and now she had no Gwen at all. Nothing more than maybe a phone call every few days or a letter, though letters were risky, as were phone calls in case they were intercepted.

Merlin was waiting for her at the station.

“My lady,” he greeted with a sombre smile.

“No need for that when we are in private, Merlin. We’re practically family now. Call me Morgana.”

He seemed taken aback at that and his smile turned a little brighter.

“Righto, _Morgana_ ,” he tested the name out on his lips and looked to her for approval.

She laughed at little out of endearment.

He helped her with her bags back to the car that was waiting outside the station. Arthur was too busy with Uther to come meet her so Merlin had been sent to collect her and drive her back to the house. He was driving one of Arthur’s personal cars, which made Morgana smile slightly at the gesture.

“How is he?” Morgana asked when they were seated in the car. She’d opted for sitting in the front with him so they could converse easier.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably.

“I can’t lie to you, it really doesn’t look good.”

Morgana nodded her quiet acceptance.

“And Arthur?”

“Devastated,” Merlin stated. His eyes glistened with the admission.

Morgana found herself reaching out to him and squeezing his knee.

“He is lucky to have you,” Morgana commented.

“I don’t think so,” Merlin said with a hint of bitterness seeping in.

“How so?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Merlin, what do you mean?” Morgana shifted her body to face him. His face was drawn and pensive. He looked as though he was trying to fight off tears.

“We had an argument, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I don’t think he’s going to _want_ me around much longer.”

“What?” Morgana gasped. “Merlin, pull over,” she instructed and he pulled over at the next opportunity.

“Now, explain what’s been going on.”

Merlin was breathing heavy and his eyes were squeezed shut. Then he let it out…

“He’s been going on about how this whole Uther thing is his fault and that he’s being punished, it’s ridiculous because Arthur isn’t even religious… not beyond obligatory Sunday services and Christmas. He’s told me himself he doesn’t believe in the Christian God, nor does he think he’s going to Hell and yet _now_ suddenly his father is dying and he thinks it’s his fault for being a _sinner._ He used those words to me! He said he was _drowning in sin_ and it was my fault!”

Morgana felt light headed. She took Merlin’s hand, trying to be of help but she didn’t know what to say.

“Then he comes over and apologises, and kisses me. He tells me he doesn’t mean it but every time it happens it feels like he’s pushing me further away.”

Merlin burst into tears then.

“Arthur was the person to convince me that I wasn’t bad!” he confessed. “It was Arthur who’d wanted-” Morgana couldn’t understand what he said after that because it came out as a strangled sob.

“Oh, Merlin!” Morgana soothed and put her arm around him. “Shhhh, don’t cry, don’t cry! Arthur is just upset about Uther. He loves you, he’s just confused, shhh!”

But her words only made him cry harder so she just held him tighter and let him cry it out.

“I know… but I don’t know if I can keep going like this. I don’t know when he’s going to snap at me or turn nasty. He’ll say sorry and then a few days later I can just _tell_ that he’s thinking about it again! And when Uther gets bad, he flinches when I touch him and he… I… oh God, you don’t need to hear all this! I’m way out of line!” Merlin tried to pull back. Morgana let him but held on to his sleeve.

“No, it’s alright! We’re friends, Merlin. You can tell me anything.”

He let out a weak sob and nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Now, let’s swap seats. You’re not driving us home in this state.”

Merlin looked as though he was about to protest but then after a brief thinking period he gave in. She figured he wasn’t going to let a matter of pride or duty get them in an accident.

When they pulled up at the house Morgana caught his wrist as he made to move out the car.

“Merlin, promise me you’ll talk to me if things get bad. If you need me, I’m here. I know I’m not Gwen but, I can try and help,” she tried to smile but being back at the house reminded her of why she was here. Her guts churned at the thought of what waited for her.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, returning to former formalities now they were back at the house. He got out the car and she slid into the passenger’s seat.

She spotted Arthur coming out the front door, half running down the steps. She tried to smile at him but it came out a little forced.

“Pretend you’re helping me out,” she whispered to Merlin who held out his hand to her and did just that.

“Morgs!” Arthur sighed in relief and embraced her. “God, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Arthur,” she breathed, suddenly realising that she had, in fact, missed him. Regardless of how irritating he could be, he was of comfort to her. “I want to see him.”

Arthur paled.

“Maybe you should change first, all that travelling must have been hard on you. It’s going to be a long night.”

Morgana didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but she did as he asked. She changed into a pale blue dress, one of Uther’s favourites and dabbed some perfume on her neck. Hers had faded on the journey.

Walking in Uther’s room was daunting, to say the least. It smelt like sweat and sickness, it reminded Morgana of when she a severe chest infection in her sixteenth winter and Gwen had nursed her back to health. Uther himself was asleep on the bed and she watched him for a time, feeling helpless.

“I need to talk to you,” Arthur broke the silence. She turned to him and offered a soft smile and her agreement. He led her out into the hallway and down towards his bedroom for privacy. She had a feeling she knew what it was about.

“Have you thought any more about my offer?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And?” he pushed.

“I’m inclined to accept, I think; but I still haven’t spoken to Gwen.”

“Right,” Arthur nodded.

“Arthur,” she sighed, “does it matter now?”

“Yes, yes it does. I’m going to ask for father’s blessing,” he explained.

Morgana felt sick. She didn’t want to have to pretend to be in love with Arthur in front of Uther for however long it was he had left. She didn’t want to end things on a lie. She thought that this was something she wouldn’t have to think about for at least another five years. Arthur was only twenty-two. Landed gentlemen didn’t marry at _twenty-two,_ nor did they get engaged, and those that did lived to regret it. No one was going to regard this as the right choice. They would be met with so much opposition.

As if reading her mind, Arthur jumped to reassure her.

“Listen, I know that this seems fast, but I just want his blessing. We don’t have to get married right away, but Morgs, you have to understand. When my father is gone our situation will come under much more scrutiny.”

“What?"

“ _Us!_ A single man and a single woman, living together alone in this big house? It won’t just be Lord Uther, his son and his ward anymore. It will be you and me alone and it’ll only get worse when we announce the engagement. How are they to know that we’re not-”

“Arthur!” she protested.

“I’ve put a lot of thought into this, Morgs. I want to get father’s blessing and, if the worst should happen, I think you should stay with Morgause… just until the time is right.”

She wanted to argue that perhaps a little controversy surrounding _their_ relationship might prevent any speculation about their real lovers but honestly, the thought of London was appealing. She could be with Gwen there. Morgause’s house was private. She could start planting the seeds into people’s minds about her and Arthur, confide in her most ‘trusted’ friends and watch as the rumours spin themselves.

“So, how about it?” he smiled softly. “Lady Morgana, will you be my wife?”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes.

He leant in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“There!” he said, proud of himself. “I have a ring for you too… but I can give that to you after we tell Father,” he said. She was surprised by his efficiency… and quite flattered.

“What about Merlin?”

“Hmm?” he mumbled.

“I spoke to him earlier. I hear things have been tense between you?”

“Oh.”

“Yes, _oh_ , Arthur _,_ ” she folded her arms. “Please be kinder to him, I want you both to be happy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Uther is dying because he is sick. It just so happens that he is dying _now_ and it has nothing to do with us or _sin._ It’s horrible but it’s life,” she said softly.

“I know.”

“So why are you doing this to Merlin?”

Arthur shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Just… be kinder to him, Arthur. Don’t lose him over this."            

He didn’t reply, just nodded. Morgana hoped that would be the end of it but didn’t kid herself into believing it would be that easy.

They went in to see Uther a few hours later when Gaius said he was awake. Morgana wondered if he was going to be well enough to hear what they had to say but when they walked in he was propped up on a pillow and seemed lucid enough.

“Morgana!” he smiled, his voice a little drowsy from sleep. His lips stretched until they were nearly white. He held out his hands to her and she had to run to him.

He wrapped his arms around in her and she feared he would be cold like death, but he was just as warm as ever - like a furnace.

“I’m sorry I went away!”

Uther chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual hearty laugh and it did not make Morgana feel better at all.

“Father, we have something to tell you,” Arthur started and it caught Morgana by surprise. This was so sudden! She thought she had more time! She felt herself begin to shake.

Uther gestured for his son to continue. Arthur pulled up a chair next to where Morgana was perched on the bed.

“We’ve come to ask for your blessing.”

“For what?” Uther frowned.

“I’ve asked Morgana to marry me and she’s accepted.”

“No,” Uther’s eyes bugged. “No!” he repeated more sternly.

“Why ever not?” Arthur cried, outraged. “I love her! She loves me!”

Morgana flinched, this was already going terribly wrong and she was worried Uther was going to keel over and die from the shock.

“What is it? Is it because you think we’re too young?” Arthur continued. “I love her, I’ve always loved her. I want to do the right thing! It won’t be right away but it’s not like we’ve just met!”

“It’s not that!” Uther groaned.

“Then what is it? What could possibly be wrong? You love Morgana like a daughter!”

“That’s because she is my daughter!”

Morgana felt like the air had punch punched out her lungs or she’d been in a high-speed car crash.

“What?” she gasped. Uther stayed silent. “Why, why would you say that?!” She turned to Arthur in panic. “Arthur, why would he say that? He’s lying!”

Arthur had frozen in his seat and gone deathly pale.

“How?” he finally spoke. “You’re lying, aren’t you? You have to be!”

Uther shook his head.

“It was before you were born. I loved your mother, I truly did. But there was a time where Lady Vivianne and I were…”

“Oh, God!” Arthur groaned and covered his ears.

Morgana had taken refuge on the other end of the bed. She didn’t want to sit next to Uther anymore. Instead, she studied him curiously and the more she did so the more ill she felt. He was her _father._

“We kept it a secret… I would have told you, Morgana, but I didn’t want to tarnish your mother’s memory. She loved Gorlois too but-”

“Stop,” Morgana held up a finger to silence him. “I don’t want to know.”

Morgana made to leave.

“I’m sorry!” Uther said, and that was a first.

“I don’t accept your apology,” she said coldly and left the room.

“Morgana!” she heard Arthur pursuing her. He caught her by the wrist and spun her around. “This doesn’t have to change anything! We can still get married. We can still make this work.”

“Do you think I care about that right now? My whole life has turned out to be a _lie_ and all you care about is our _stupid_ sham engagement?!”

Morgana’s tears ran fast and hot, and she struggled to catch her breath. Arthur pulled her into his arms in a fierce hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m in shock,” he whispered. “I’m being selfish.”

“There’s a surprise,” she found herself saying and Arthur looked outraged but then he laughed. The sound made her smile despite herself.

“If you like you can go back to my room, Merlin should be there. I’m going to back to sit with Father. As much as I’m angry at him right now, he’s still dying.”

Morgana nodded, not wanting to see Uther again for a little while. She knew she’d have to make her peace with this, and _fast_ as Uther didn’t have much time left. It hit her then exactly _what_ she had to make peace with. She’d lost her father once… and now she was losing another. She and Uther would never have the relationship they could have had. None of it seemed real. It was as though she was looking in on someone else’s life. She wanted to go to Gwen, telephone her at least, but she couldn’t confess this over the phone. She’d have to wait a month, at least, until she saw her again.

She made the journey down the corridor to Arthur’s bedroom. It was nearer than hers which was situated on the other side of the house. She was hardly aware of reaching his door and turning the handle.

“I didn’t – oh!” Merlin sat up abruptly from where he was reclined on Arthur’s bed reading a book.

“Sorry,” Morgana mumbled, uncharacteristically.

“Is everything alright?” Merlin frowned. “Where’s Arthur?"

“With our father.”

Merlin nodded, not taking on what Morgana had said. He probably just thought she was being sentimental. She was frustrated at him for it. She needed to vent. Instead, she sat on the bed and flexed her jaw for fifteen minutes in awkward silence before Merlin _finally_ spoke. 

“I am really sorry, you know. I know it doesn’t help anything, but I am sorry that he’s dying.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Morgana said blandly. “Once he’s dead you won’t have to look over your shoulder so much. If anything it’s a blessing for _you._ ”

Merlin was quiet.

“I’ll take your silence as agreement.”

“No, that’s not fair! I never said-”

“You didn’t have to! Uther is a selfish, ignorant old man who would have us all locked up if he knew the truth! He is a liar and a cheat! I can’t even – I feel _sick,_ Merlin!” she broke down and slouched on the bed. Merlin moved to hold her, pulling her towards his chest. She considered fighting him but it wasn’t worth it. He smelled nice, like Arthur’s cologne.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed but didn’t say much else. She was glad.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there like that but eventually she found the courage to speak. She wasn’t angry while she spoke about it anymore. She just told him as though she were recounting the facts of someone else’s life, like a long dead baroness’ biography.  

She sat beside him on the bed, toying with the button on his sleeve which was suddenly _oh so very fascinating_ and told him that Uther was her father; that her mother had had an affair and that made Arthur her younger brother. _She was engaged to marry her younger brother._

“Is it right? Should we call it off?”

“It’s not exactly a _real_ marriage. It’s not like you’ll be…” Merlin trailed off, embarrassed.

“No… it’s not like a real marriage,” Morgana said bleakly. It’s not that she had _wanted_ to marry Arthur in the way you should want to marry someone… but it had promised safety. Now, with another secret to hide, it felt _wrong._ She felt as though she would be running her whole life. But it was a damn lot safer than marrying someone else or not marrying at all. She couldn’t stay at Camelot without becoming his wife. Arthur was right about that. It would only be a matter of time before every member of the landed gentry wanted to stick their nose in their business.

It had gotten dark outside by the time Arthur walked in.

“How is he?” Morgana asked automatically, sitting up from where they were lounging on Arthur’s bed. Arthur walked past them and started talking as though it happened every day, as though it was natural.

“He’s asleep… but I’m regretful to say not much improved,” he said distantly and went to his wardrobe and pulled out a robe. “He was asking for you as he was drifting off to sleep. He wants to make amends.”

“And how, dear brother, does he suppose he’s going to do that?”

“Just talk to him, Morgs,” Arthur rolled his eyes and started fiddling with his shirt buttons.

Morgana sighed and melted back against the bed. This all felt strangely normal when it really shouldn’t. Not here, lying on Arthur’s bed with Merlin who, up until recently, had just been a serving boy in her household.

After Arthur had loosened his shirt buttons, he came and sat next to her on the bed, pushing her in the middle between him and Merlin.

“You shouldn’t call me that, you know?”

“What?”

“ _Brother,_ ” he smirked. “It’s a terrible habit we both have to drop if we’re to be seen as a couple. And you certainly can’t call me it when you’re my wife.”

Morgana instinctively turned to see Merlin’s reaction. His jaw had tensed at the word but he didn’t say anything. 

“I’ve been thinking about this supposed plan,” she said, looking a Merlin. “If we’re to be packing up and hiding out in some far away country with no one to bother us, out of the four of us, who can actually cook?”

“Guinevere?” Arthur offered.

“You’d think so,” Morgana smiled thoughtfully, “but unless you want to live off Victoria Sponge for the rest of your life that may be an issue.”

“Not a problem with me!”

“It is with me!” Merlin laughed; his mood lighter. “Your waist is expanding every day with what you pack away at dinner!”

“Are you calling me _fat?_ ” Arthur shrieked.

“Uh, _yes,_ ” Merlin retorted.

Arthur shot up and tried to clamber over Morgana to get at Merlin.

“Boys!” she protested and pushed Arthur back. “Whatever weird flirtation this is, please don’t put me in the middle or I’m going!” She made to get up.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Morgs!” Arthur protested and pulled her back down on the bed. “You make a good buffer.”

“Charming,” she scoffed but didn’t try to leave again.

Arthur got quiet then and Merlin took his hand over Morgana’s stomach. She gave him a gentle smile though she didn’t feel like smiling. Their affection reminded her of how much she missed Gwen. She wondered what she was doing. Maybe she was thinking the same thing. It was a nice thought. Realistically, though, Gwen was probably still at the club singing backups for some new act. They’d been rehearsing those last three days and Morgana had barely seen her before she left. She’d been there at the station to wave her off but then it had been straight back to rehearsals for Gwen. God, it felt like a lifetime away already.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: there's some internalized homophobia and suicidal ideation in this chapter. There's also some speculation over conversion therapy or being "fixed", but it doesn't come to anything.

Uther and Morgana managed to resolve some of their conflicts. She wasn’t satisfied, of course, she never would be, but, at least, they could part on good terms when the time came. They lied to him about ending their plans to get married. It was much simpler. Morgana suspected that Uther didn’t believe them with the way he eyed them every time Arthur put his hand on her lower back or they even so much as looked at each other. She supposed he felt himself free of guilt if they _knew_ and still proceeded rather than if they were ignorant. It was out of his hands now.  

It was three weeks later that there was a banging on her bedroom door. She didn’t even have time to look at the clock on her mantel to see the time before she flung herself out of bed but she knew it was early. She threw on the dressing gown and opened the door; behind it stood a very pale, very stricken-looking Merlin. He shook his head furiously in panic.

“It’s Lord Camelot!” he said painfully. Her head began to spin.

“Is he…?”

“I don’t know! We think it's a fever, Arthur asked me to get you!”

Morgana rushed past him in her dressing gown down the halls. Her bare feet pounding on the carpet. She sensed Merlin at her heels but she didn’t turn around to check.

She reached Uther’s chamber just as Arthur was walking out and shutting the door behind him.

“What’s happening?” she demanded.

Arthur shook his head before he started uncharacteristically stuttering.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Morgana nodded in acceptance and walked towards him to take him in her arms. She felt him reluctantly lower his head into her neck as his arms tightened around her. He heaved a painful sigh.

“I just want it to be over,” he admitted.

She knew he must have felt awful for saying it but she was relieved he did because it was how she’d felt for the last three weeks.

She didn’t reply, just sort of nodded and hoped he felt it. Any sort of verbal response got caught in her throat because it sounded wrong in her head. She wasn’t brave enough to say it in case it came out wrong.

“I like your nightie,” Arthur mumbled after a while and Morgana laughed just a little.

“It’s from Paris,” she told him.

“It’s very nice… I like the material.”

“Good, it was very expensive.”

A short time later Gaius came out and gave them a nod to tell them everything was stable and they could go in. Uther wasn’t dying today. Six weeks later Uther had made somewhat of a miraculous recovery and Morgana was heading back to London for a few days to visit Gwen.

She had been going stir crazy in that house until, one night, Arthur had snapped and sent her packing. She said goodbye to him and Merlin privately in her room before she left.

“We can hold off on the wedding plans now, Morgs. Try not to be _too_ disappointed,” he joked.

They’d discussed it after Uther had been shown to be making vast improvements and briskly turning his back on death’s door. _“I knew the old man was immortal,”_ Arthur had said with a smirk upon hearing the news. No one could survive like Uther Pendragon.

“I’m sure I’ll find _some way_ to console myself,” she rolled her eyes. “Now, Merlin,” she turned to the dark haired boy to her right. “Don’t take any flack from him,” she pointed at Arthur who looked mildly wounded. “If he gives you trouble you wallop him one, alright?”

“ _Wallop?_ ” Arthur protested incredulously.

“Yes, brother, _wallop._ ”

Arthur folded his arms and tittered in irritation. Merlin laughed and kissed her on the cheek and she pulled him into a tight hug. They’d grown quite close over those nine weeks.

“We should get going before you miss your train,” Arthur muttered, unimpressed.

“Cheer up, Arthur, I’ll be back next week. No need to be upset!”

“You wish!” he grumbled as they exited the room. Her suitcases were already in the car and Arthur had offered to drive her to the station. 

Uther waved them off from the front door, sat in his wheelchair that he loathed. She felt bad about leaving but they’d all decided it was best given the circumstances that she get some time away. Uther had agreed, of course. As far as he concerned, not only had she discovered he was her father but that the man she loved was her brother. This was not the case, obviously, but Morgana took the chance to rush back to Gwen.

Morgana hummed in excitement knowing that Gwen was in Morgause’s house that very moment, probably just as excited to be reunited as she was. They’d talked on the phone, even written a few letters; sentimental stuff… but nothing that could be used as leverage if it got into the wrong hands. None of that, however, could compare to finally being in Gwen’s arms again.

Arthur kissed her goodbye at the station. It was a chaste kiss, somewhere between her cheek and her lips. She imagined he had some kind of motive. Maybe he hoped a nosy farmer would spot them and spread rumours around the village. He thought he was so clever like that.

She spotted Gwen on the platform standing with Morgause and her eyes welled up at the sight of her. She looked beautiful in her new mauve coat and modern hair cut. Morgana could choke up just looking at her.

She rushed into her arms and melted into Gwen’s warmth. The smell at her neck was slightly changed, a new perfume. She no longer smelt like Morgana’s and instead she wore a pretty floral scent. It was fresh and lovely just like Gwen. Gwen herself looked well. The city seemed to agree with her. Morgana imagined it was all the excitement.

They didn’t waste time by going to lunch. They took the car straight from the station to the house and Morgause, far too wise to question them, let them go upstairs without any of the usual pleasantries of tea or cake.

As soon as they were in what had been their room only a little more than two months ago, Morgana crashed her lips to Gwen’s in a furious panic.

“I thought I was going to go mad not seeing you,” she confessed against her lips as she fiddled with the buttons of Gwen's dress – also new, she noted.

“So did I,” Gwen giggled and kissed her again, and again until they were tumbling onto the bed.

Morgana marvelled at the softness of Gwen’s body, somehow even more divine than it had been the last time she’d held her.

“I cannot be apart from you again,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “I would sooner die.”

“Shhh,” Gwen cooed and stroked her hair. She rolled them over so Morgana was on her back and placed gentle kisses on her cheeks, her jaw, her neck and her shoulders before she returned to her lips. “Just don’t think about it anymore tonight. We’re together now.”

Morgana hummed her approval and surrendered to Gwen’s gentle attentions.

Gwen had to work at the club again on Saturday, the night after Morgana arrived. Walking backstage with her, she felt a wave of unease as Gwen was greeted familiarly and warmly by a whole host of people Morgana didn’t know.

“This is my friend, Morgana,” Gwen gestured to her and she felt so out of place. They’d decided not to introduce her as Lady Morgana or as her employer as it would cause whispers. Instead, she’d just go in as Gwen’s friend. It would make their closeness seem less odd.

Morgana was introduced to a bunch of musicians and performers, Di, Charlotte and Rebecca to name a few…

“Oh, Gwen, before I forget, these are for you. Must be from your chap!” Rebecca said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and reaching for a large bouquet of roses.

Morgana’s heart was in her throat.

“Chap?” she questioned, trying to sound nonchalant but friendly.

“Lance Du Lac!” Rebecca explained, thrilled. “But we call him Lancelot because he’s the _bravest and most noble knight,_ ” she laughed.

Di rolled her eyes in the corner, clearly bored of the whole ordeal.

Morgana looked at Gwen who was shifting uncomfortably.

“French bloke; seems quite minted as well if you ask me; always in a nice suit; _dead romantic!”_ Rebecca might as well have swooned.

Morgana involuntarily clenched her jaw in both hurt and irritation. What if Gwen returned this _Lancelot’s_ affections? What if she would rather be with him? It would clearly be a better option for her. They could get married and have children - go the whole nine yards. It sounded as though she wouldn’t want for anything either.

“Lay off it,” Gwen rolled her eyes but took the flowers, Morgana noted. “He’s just a friend, there is _nothing_ going on!” She looked at Morgana, almost pleading with her to believe her. Morgana wasn’t sure if she did but she wasn’t going to show it just yet. Instead, she gave a haughty laughed and said:

“I can’t wait to meet him,” with a twisted smirk.

Gwen shifted with discomfort but didn’t say anything. Rebecca started chatting away about their first song and Morgana zoned out, suddenly disinterested in Gwen’s performance.

A short while later she found herself walking towards the bar for a drink, waiting for Gwen to come on stage. She could spot Morgause laughing animatedly, sat at a small table with a young man with dark skin. He seemed quite handsome from what she could see of his profile and achingly familiar. It was only once she’d approached and he’d greeted her that she realised who it was. _Elyan!_ Gwen’s brother. He was quite the roamer, having only returned once since he’d turned sixteen but Gwen adored him. He was there to watch her sing.

He was quite well turned out in his dashing suit, really dressed to the nines. Gwen had mentioned he'd started his own business, fixing and selling cars.

“We have our own showroom now,” he explained. “My friend Lance and I have a shop here in London. We’re doing really well,” he continued.

So this was where the mysterious rose-giving Lance had sprung from. He was her brother’s business associate.

“That’s wonderful, Elyan,” she had praised him with a beaming smile, “I would love you to show it to me sometime?”

It was a little forced and she caught Morgause eying her curiously but Elyan didn’t pick up on it.

“Yes, of course! Gwen would love that too,” he carried on talking but Morgana was caught up in thoughts of Lance. She tried to filter through what he was saying, trying to catch a clue and then…

“Lance!” Elyan called out and a handsome man, by God was he handsome, approached the table with a genuine smile. He looked a little wary upon seeing Morgana, who he did not know, and she hoped she was imposing enough to unnerve him.

Morgause seemed pleased to see him too and Morgana felt betrayed. They were obviously familiar with each other and Morgana couldn’t believe that her own sister wouldn’t have thought to have mentioned this development before. Then again, Morgause had never been the jealous type, not with her lovers at least. With their parents, she’d always been that touch bitter that _little Morgan_ had been so doted on, so loved because she’d been the _miracle child._ She now knew that was because Gorlois had become infertile and her mother’s infidelity was the reason Morgana was so _miraculously_ conceived. She wondered if she’d ever tell Morgause about that. Would it break her heart? Would she love her less?

 _Lancelot_ was introduced to her by Morgause herself who gestured to her casually before Lance took her hand. She half expected him to kiss it but he seemed to change his mind. Then the music started playing and the curtain came up and there she was. Gwen looking poised and confident and nothing like her usual self. She saw Elyan nudging Lance out of the corner of her eye and Lance smiling, the pair of them looking every bit like gossiping school boys. Gwen gave her a little cheeky smile as she sang and Morgana’s heart skipped a little… then sank when she thought she saw her eyes shift and her smile become that little bit brighter. She had to be imagining it, right? It had to be paranoia. 

She tried to reign in the panic that was starting to wrack her body. She tried to reassure herself that Gwen had not betrayed her, that she had no _proof._ Still, this cold feeling had settled inside her and she longed to be back at Camelot – just the four of them as the little family Morgana had been building in her head.

The time passed laboriously slow… even if everyone around her was in good spirits. Morgause caught onto her dampened mood eventually but didn’t comment, just narrowed her eyes in a silent question. Morgana forced a smile and nodded as if to say _“I’m fine, just tired”_ but Morgause didn’t seem to buy it.

“What did you think?” Gwen asked her after the performance. She’d rushed straight to her before anyone else after the show and had enveloped her in a hug. It was enough to make Morgana forget about her worries for now. This was _Gwen_ for goodness sake. She would never hurt her.

“It was brilliant! You were amazing and so beautiful!” Morgana gushed and Gwen pulled her into a hug again. This time, Morgana held her in place so she could bury her face just slightly into the crook of her neck and feel the warmth there.

“I’m glad. I was so nervous,” Gwen admitted quietly into her ear.

“Whatever for? You were wonderful,” Morgana grinned.

Her smile fell when she heard a shy sort of cough from behind her and Gwen pulled away. Morgana turned to see _Lancelot_ standing there and her earlier irritation returned.

“Lance,” Gwen said pleasantly with a small smile on her lips.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 _You clearly did,_ Morgana thought bitterly. _If you hadn’t then you wouldn’t have coughed._

“It’s quite alright,” Gwen soothed.

“I was wondering if I could speak with you in private?” he asked hopefully.

Gwen turned to gauge Morgana’s reaction and looked apologetic as it was apparent that she was none too pleased with the idea. She knew she shouldn’t be too put out by it, though, so she mustered the strength to nod.

Gwen didn’t look convinced but she followed him out of sight anyway. Morgause quickly slid into her vacant space.

“I dislike him already,” Morgana spat through gritted teeth.

“I can tell,” her sister smirked. “Pray tell what it is he’s supposed to have done to deserve your ill feeling? You’ve barely spoken two words to one another.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Morgana rolled her eyes at her sister’s façade. She knew full well why Morgana was upset.

“Okay, you’ve caught me!” Morgause feigned exhaustion. “I don’t see the problem, he _likes_ her. She’s a lovely girl; who wouldn’t?”

Morgana eyed her up curiously over that.

“Do you?”

“Meh,” she shrugged, “I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.”

Morgana had to laugh at that.

“I don’t see why it should upset you, though. If Gwen loves you she won’t fall for the boy’s charms. If you let her _know_ it upsets you, she’ll know you feel threatened, and if you feel _threatened_ then she’ll start to wonder _why._ What is it that this _Lance_ has that has you on edge? What could he offer her that you can’t? She’s only human. She’ll ponder, and wonder and then she’ll want to find out,” Morgause explained as though it were simple. 

“So I should just ignore the way he looks at her? The way she smiles at him? I should pretend that he couldn’t give her everything that I can’t? A legitimate home and marriage? Children? A name?”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Morgause chastised. “Gwen hasn’t even left you for him yet and you’re talking about their _marriage-_ ”

“ _Yet?_ ” Morgana gasped and flinched back as though she’d been stung.

“No, you know what I mean, ‘Gana,” she said softly.

“I think you said what you meant without meaning to!” she accused.

“What does that even mean?” Morgause sighed and tried to catch her arm but Morgana was already backing away.

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m going to find Gwen.”

“ _Morgana!_ ” she heard Morgause call her but she was storming towards the exit. She’d flag a taxi to get them home; she just had to _find her first_.

She walked down towards the entrance where she’d seen Lance lead Gwen, hoping they hadn’t gone far. She didn’t see them at first, but then she caught a flash of Gwen’s dress and then her curly hair in one of the mirrors that decorated the wall. She turned to see them around the corner behind a large florally wallpapered wall. Lance was leaning in close to her and had taken her hands in his.

She readied herself to go fight for Gwen’s honour but she realised Gwen was not fighting… or at least not seeming to. All of Morgana’s earlier fears rose to the surface and her eyes grew tight and painful in a sudden need to cry. She could see he was about to kiss her, she _knew_ he was and yet Gwen still had not moved away.

Gwen must have heard something, a laboured breath, a small sob; because she turned around and her eyes went wide at the sight of Morgana.

“Morgana!” she gasped and Morgana could practically sense her guilt. It was written all over her face.

Morgana retreated, shaking her head in denial. She didn’t think she could stand there and pretend to be fine for anyone, let alone Lance’s, benefit.

“I’m feeling unwell,” she explained, her voice cracking. “I’m going to get a taxi.”

“I’ll come with you!”

“No,” Morgana said a little too harshly. “You stay. Don’t let me ruin your night. You can come home with Morgause later.” She smiled though it was weak.

“If you’re unwell then let me drive you?” Lancelot offered. “I would feel better knowing you were home safely. I can drive both of you.”

Gwen looked to her hopefully but still she refused.

“I’ll be quite alright,” she assured them and left following some strained goodnight wishes. As soon as she walked out into the artificial lights of the street she burst into tears. She cried as she climbed into the taxi and gave her address, all the way through the journey and while she fumbled with her purse to pay the driver. He asked her if she needed any help; if anything had happened to her. She had told him she’d fallen out with her friend but she was quite well. It was silly, really. _Nothing at all to be concerned about._

She collapsed on her bed as soon as she was able to kick off her shoes and cried into her pillow. It wasn’t necessarily about that moment in the reception. That had just triggered it. Morgana wasn’t stupid. She knew that their love had no place in the world they lived in. Arthur could delude himself into believing that it would be alright but would it? Could she honestly put her hand on her heart and say that she could make Gwen happy? She knew Gwen cared for her but was that enough?

She was angry at the world. It tore her up that she’d been so utterly wronged by it. She’d been raised to expect the best and to be _proud_ but how could she do that when she had to hide the person she loved from the world? When she couldn’t have what she wanted most? The normality of the situation back in the dressing room was what had hurt her so much, not just the jealousy. There she was in a room full of women, chatting and laughing and there was Gwen, getting flowers from an admirer. It was _normal._ She was meant to be the supportive friend, helping her get her man, delighting in her darling companion moving on in life. She should be booing over some gentleman friend, not her _lady’s maid._ Everything was so utterly wrong and broken and she wished above all things that she could either be _normal_ like the other girls or, most of all, that she and Gwen could be together like other couples. She wondered what it would be like, to see Gwen as just a friend; for her heart not to swell whenever she saw her face or to not want to stroke her cheek while she slept. She wondered if she could ever spend her time excited over a handsome man who’d sent her flowers and wanted to marry her. Then she wondered if Gwen actually _did._ Arthur had said that Gwaine had got married, for love and not just out of obligation, that it was different for him. What if it was different for Gwen too? What if she loved them both? Or him more than her? What if-

“Morgana?” she heard Gwen’s voice as she opened the bedroom door. She slumped as she saw her on the bed. Morgana could only guess that she looked a mess with her eyes all puffy and red from crying. Her hair must look like a bird’s nest too with all the tugging and pulling in frustration she’d abused it with over that last hour.

“I told you to stay!” was all Morgana could think of to say.

“And you know I couldn’t do that. I got Lance to drive me back,” she explained. Morgana started crying again. “Morgana, talk to me, what’s the matter?”

“You know!” she managed to gasp out. “I don’t want to see you.” And she buried her face back into her pillow.

She’d expected some kind of argument from Gwen but instead she heard banging as Gwen pulled her night dress out of the drawer and gathered up a few things to take into the next room. Morgana wanted to take it back and have Gwen come over to the bed and sooth her fears. But Morgana’s gut was telling her to wallow and internalise all these fears and shield herself from what was to come. Gwen was going to choose Lance. He was better for her. This thing between them would never make them happy. She didn’t want to marry Arthur. She didn’t want to lie forever and _pretend._ She wished, not for the first time, that she was a man. Then all of this would make sense. She wondered if she should go to the hospital; if they could fix her there.  Make her a proper woman. That made her cry harder again. She thought maybe if she cried hard enough then she’d throw up and all the sickness inside of her would be purged. It was wishful thinking but she was hysterical and clutching at straws.

She heard the spare room door open and she didn’t dare look for fear of catching Gwen’s eye. The door shut and the only sound was that of Gwen fumbling around in the next room. Morgana thought that was it but then the door opened again and Gwen’s bare feet padded against the wooden floor. Morgana was a limp lump on the made bed when she felt the mattress shift next to her and then there were gentle fingers at the back of her neck. It felt as though the veil of incomprehensible anger had been lifted and Morgana was left feeling weak. She rolled over to face Gwen.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered and leant into her shoulder, breathing in her warm scent.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” Gwen sighed and stroked her hair as she began to weep again.

“I don’t know why I reacted like that,” Morgana mumbled when her crying had let up. “I just… I feel so…”

“Mmmmm,” Gwen hummed noncommittally.

“I’m sorry,” she said and buried her face further into Gwen’s neck, not wanting to see her reaction. Gwen hummed again and held her tighter.

They stayed like that for a while in the quiet before Gwen suggested she put on her nightdress and they go to sleep.

It was two days later when Morgana’s flow started and she realised that her breakdown that night had been of the hormonal kind. She should have noticed where she was in her cycle but with the journey to London and Uther’s illness, she hadn’t exactly been looking after herself the way she should. She supposed emotional upheaval could do that to you – make you vulnerable and catch you out when you aren’t anticipating it. On any other night, she might have thought nothing of Lance and his affections for Gwen – she might have even thought it _funny_ or _sweet._ It had told Gwen a lot, though, about where Morgana was emotionally. She confided in her about her fears that she would leave her and find a husband and Gwen listened with furrowed brow and pursed lips.

“But all I’ve ever wanted is _you,_ Morgana,” Gwen told her earnestly as she ran her fingers over Morgana’s cheeks, and lips, and chin. “You’re in all my dreams of the future. When I think about where I’ll be in twenty years I see _you,_ not Lance or any other man, woman or deity,” she laughed softly.

“Deity?” Morgana pouted. “No holy orders then, Guinevere?”

“Not if I can help it,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “Morgana, you’re all I’ve wanted since I’ve known you. Just lying here with you feels unreal, like someone’s about to wake me up and I’m going to be in my servant’s quarters and this has all been some wonderful dream. You have no idea, do you? How I wanted you for years? Cried myself to sleep because I thought loving you was so terrible, so _impossible?_ I used to torture myself wondering who held your affections or who you would eventually marry, knowing that it would never be _me_. So hearing you saying that you were worried about _me_ leaving _you...”_ Gwen sighed, clearly at a loss for words.

“Gwen,” Morgana heard herself whisper.

Gwen seemed distant, she was staring off into space as though she’d forgotten Morgana was there – or, at least, couldn’t look at her. Then her eyes snapped back to her and they were filled with a warmth that made Morgana’s heart melt.

“I can’t stand the thought of you doubting me. If there’s anything I pride myself on it is my loyalty to _you,_ Morgana. I love you so much I think there’s little I wouldn’t do for you, wouldn’t _be_ for you. I’ve dedicated my life to making you happy for the last seven years. I could have left this job once and taken an apprenticeship with a local seamstress… but I didn’t take it,” Gwen confessed, Morgana was reeling from the information.

“ _What?_ ”

“I couldn’t stand to leave you. I thought if I left you’d forget me and I’d lose you,” she explained. “I was coming to regret it until that day we got caught in the rain,” she sighed. “Until then I thought my cause was hopeless; that I’d condemned myself to a life of miserable pining.”

Morgana looked at Gwen in shock and guilt. However Gwen dressed it, _she_ had held her back. She had stayed in her service when she could have followed a career she would have _loved._

“You can still do that, you know? You could train to do whatever you want; I’ll still be here when you’re done,” Morgana said softly. _I don’t want to ruin your life,_ she meant.

Gwen shook her head but Morgana held on to it for later. She knew Gwen still had more to do, this stint as a backup singer was just the beginning. Whether she followed singing as a career, became a seamstress or anything else that might make her happy, Gwen was not destined to be a maid.

Most of the following week was spent at home as Morgana was nursing a "sore stomach”. She was unhappy about it because she couldn’t be intimate with Gwen… or at least, Gwen couldn’t be intimate with _her_ and obviously, the struggle with the perilous cramps was another downside that she loathed. What did help, though, was having Gwen there to rub her stomach and bring her hot water bottles like she did at home.

They spent the time in bed, taking advantage of Morgause’s generous kitchen staff and contents. They fed each other the most delicious cheeses and wines, meats and bread. Gwen made several jokes about becoming a slothful, wanton woman of luxury and that Morgana was a bad influence.

Eventually, the time came for Morgana to leave. She’d stayed on a little longer than intended so that she didn’t have to endure the train journey in discomfort and also so she and Gwen could spend the night together properly before she left.

“We could have been doing that all week,” Morgana grumbled into Gwen’s hair as they were dosing off.

“Mmm, yes, but it gives you the incentive to come back,” Gwen mumbled back.

“Good point,” Morgana smiled sleepily and flinched a little when Gwen planted a light slap on her bare thigh. “Kidding,” Morgana amended.

“Good,” Gwen sighed happily and fell asleep.

Morgana was awake a little while longer, savouring the feel of Gwen in her arms. But the soft lull of Gwen’s even breathing eventually coaxed her into a peaceful slumber.

The next night, in comparison, was lonely. She felt resentment for Arthur who was undoubtedly curled up in Merlin’s arms in that very house while she was stuck in her room alone thinking about Gwen so many miles away. The tick-tock of the clock on the opposite wall seemed to echo through the room, acting as a reminder of how empty it was. In frustration, she smothered her head under her pillow, hoping to drown out the sounds, and thoughts, that were wracking through her brain.

That afternoon with Uther had been frustrating, to say the least. He’d made small talk and asked her about her trip. He'd been down in the library, reading the newspaper as he always did on Monday afternoons. His wheelchair had been parked beside him by the sofa. He used it all the time now. Arthur had gone behind his back and had a lift installed in the hall so Uther could go downstairs easily. Uther hated it, obviously, and claimed it was too modern and ruined the classic look of the house. Regardless of this, he _needed it._ As his health deteriorated his legs were becoming more and more unreliable and could collapse from underneath him at any point while standing.

After asking her about Morgause’s health, enquiring if she’d had a chance to see any of his connections in London and insisting upon a full review of the tea they’d took at Nemeton, he'd moved onto more pressing matters: _Arthur._

“I understand this must be difficult for you, my dear. And honestly, if I’d had the faintest clue I would have… acted sooner,” he'd shifted uncomfortably, struggling to pull himself up on his arms to shift the position of his legs.

“Uther,” Morgana had started, “I can assure you I’m _fine._ ”

“Don’t try to fool me, Morgana. I know you too well. I know something’s playing on your mind and I see the way you look at him. The way you _light up_ whenever he enters a room.”

Morgana had stayed quiet. It was odd to hear that her sisterly affection for her new found brother could be so easily interpreted as romantic when given such a twisted context. This wasn’t the first time she was relieved she wasn’t _actually_ attracted to Arthur. Being in love with your brother seemed a worse fate than loving a woman, a woman outside your own class at that. Then again, there was nothing stopping them from marrying, not legally. Not unless Uther was ready to out them and she doubted that was about to happen.

“I think it would be wise for you to return to London,” he'd said and Morgana’s head had shot up to attention.

“ _What?_ ” she'd gasped. “I can’t leave you! You’re sick!”

“And this business with Arthur is making _you_ ill, my dear.”

There had been many occasions that she could have slapped Uther over the years but this time she just wanted to shake him until he saw sense. She wanted to tell him it was all a lie and that there was no issue there with her and Arthur. She couldn’t stand the thought of him trying to do _right_ by her by sending her away when it was unnecessary. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t say _anything_ because they couldn’t explain themselves without revealing _everything._ Even if she and Arthur both claimed the whole thing had been a façade, it fell flat without the final piece of the puzzle and that would be the _motive._ They couldn’t tell Uther the truth about _that._ It just couldn’t happen.

“I don’t want to leave,” she'd said quietly and took his hand.

“I know, but what’s happening with Arthur, it’s _wrong,_ Morgana. It’s against God and all that is decent. I can’t go to my grave knowing I enabled you to carry on like this. I love you both but it can’t happen.”

She felt sick as she was scolded by the man she’d come to love as, and then learnt _was,_ her father. As much as she disapproved of his actions, the part that had been raised to revere Uther shrunk inside.

“This is all your fault,” she'd said through gritted teeth, trying to fight the tears that were threatening to fall but failing as they ran hotly down her cheeks. “If you’d only been honest, then I wouldn’t feel like this and I wouldn’t have to leave you.”

Of course, what she'd meant was she wouldn’t feel betrayed and cheap but Uther took her to mean her love for Arthur. It was so twisted she laughed; actually _laughed_ in his face.

“Morgana!” he'd protested as she'd stood up and walked away, still cackling.

It was then she realised that being around _Uther_ was what was bad for her health. He’d taken her in and made her feel like she was so lucky; like he was the most caring man in the world and that she should overlook all his glaring faults because he’d _saved_ her from Agravaine. He’d taken her in and given her a home and she’d been _grateful_ for that for so long when it was hers by _right._ She had just as much right to be there as Arthur, every right to Uther’s affection as his golden boy. In theory, if she weren’t a _bastard_ she’d have every right to his estate. She was the first born after all.

So now she was lying in bed, quietly seething inside about everything; about the lies and about her position in life. She would have to marry if she was ever going to support herself long term. And the only way she could do that without being _raped_ or bullied into a physical relationship with her husband was to marry Arthur. Once again, she was trapped. Reliant on a Pendragon, and this time her little brother no less.

She had to get out. She had to make her own life somewhere away from Camelot, just to show herself she could. By this point, she didn’t care about money or land or titles. None of it was hers anyway, not in the true sense. On paper, she was as legitimate as they came. She had a title and a family history that was not hers either. She remembered her father, Gorlois, telling her about his mother, Agnes. She could distinctly remember him laughing and declaring how much she was like her. She wondered if her mother ever heard him and if she died inside every time with the guilt of what she had done… or if she was smug for getting away with it. She would never know the answer to any of these things and she would never be able to apologise to her father for them. Ever since she’d found out she’d felt immeasurably guilty – like she’d stolen his good name and cheated him out of a _real_ daughter. She was an imposter. But _no!_ It wasn’t her fault. She repeated it in her head until she realised she was saying it out loud. She had done nothing wrong! It wasn’t her fault! She didn’t choose to be born! She didn’t choose her father!

This was all on _Uther._

And was Uther to blame for the way she and Arthur were? At first, it had seemed like a happy coincidence that she had found an ally in Arthur when she had no hope of ever finding anyone but Gwen. However, now that she knew about Uther, what if there was a connection? Some biological reason that they were the way they were?

Part of her wanted to hate him. The other part wanted to go back in time and never have found out in the first place.

She buried her head deeper in her pillow and wondered if she could suffocate herself like that. She tried it. She tried holding her breath and pushing down the pillow on her head, cutting off the oxygen but apparently her self-preservation instincts kicked in and she came up for air before she became light headed. She supposed it was like when you were in the bath and tried to hold yourself under there just to drown out the world… but inevitably your body would start convulsing to try to push you back up and you’re incapable of defying it. She didn’t want to die anyway. It would upset Gwen too much.

She took to reading some of Gwen’s letters to soothe herself before finally falling asleep at three in the morning. She hoped they would have the good sense to not wake her up for breakfast and let her sleep. Then she would be able to get up and start packing for her return to London in a few days.


	9. Chapter Nine

They did _not_ have the good sense to let her sleep and there was a wake-up call for her at nine, orders of the young master himself.

“Arthur,” she growled as she stormed into the breakfast room, “you had better have a good explanation for this!”

Arthur was, admittedly, rather taken aback by her greeting but he composed himself with ease. She spotted Merlin dusting the pianoforte in an apron with a nervous look on his face.

“Is he wearing a pinny?” she glared at Arthur. There really was no other way to describe the frilly white garment. It was a woman’s apron, obviously specially bought because none of the maids wore anything like that.

Arthur looked at Merlin with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Why yes, I do believe he is,” he smirked. “Come on, Merlin, give us a little twirl!”

Merlin raised his eyebrows but otherwise stayed still. Arthur looked like he was about to argue his case but Morgana interrupted him with a groan.

“Arthur! Why am I here?” She didn’t have the strength to tolerate him that day. Not after the last day’s worth of events. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night and I have to plan for my journey.”

“Journey?” Arthur frowned, his interest suddenly caught.

“I’m returning to London. Apparently, our being together is a stain upon this household and your father’s asked me to leave both for the sake of my soul and my health.”

“ _What!?_ ” Arthur cried, outraged. “He can’t just tell you to – this is your home, Morgs! I can’t believe he did this… and without even telling me!”

Morgana shrugged.

“I think he’s right,” she said, earning her a spluttering Arthur. “Not for the same reasons, but being here is bad for me. It’s heightening my aggravation.”

“What _aggravation_? Everything is fine!”

“Maybe for _you,_ Mr My-entire-life-hasn’t-been-a-lie, but for some of us, recent events have taken quite the toll.”

Arthur sat there quietly, clearly at a loss for words – but Morgana wasn’t.

“You haven’t thought about me at all throughout this, have you? All you’ve cared about is getting married and pretending you’re the perfect Lord Camelot to be! I’m just a pawn in all this, aren’t I, Arthur? God, you’re pathetic. I can’t even-”

“Morgana,” she heard a warning voice sound. Where it came from surprised her. Merlin had moved forward and was looking right at her. It irked her how commanding he could be... even in, as he was in that moment, a frilly pinny. “That’s enough.”

Morgana felt a wave of rage fill her.

“And who are you, Merlin? Who are you to tell me when it’s enough? I say we’re nowhere near done. I’m sick of-”

“Give it a rest, Morgana!” he continued and Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. “If you had the slightest idea how concerned he’s been for you these last few weeks. If you haven’t realised already, he’s terrible at that sentimental lark and even understanding people’s feelings-”

“I don’t think that’s entirely-” Arthur started but backed down with one look from Merlin.

“Point being, when he _has_ talked to me about what’s going on up there in between his ears he’s only expressed the _deepest_ concern for you; for how you’re coping, what it must be like for you to find out the truth about Uther. So don’t ever think he doesn’t care about you. We both do, Morgana. Please, don’t turn this into a fight. It’s not Arthur you’re angry at, it’s Uther.”

Morgana stared at him in shock for a moment. Had _Merlin_ really just said that? She had this sinking realisation as she realised he was actually right. She felt so stupid. Stupid and remorseful.

“I- I’m sorry,” she stuttered and turned to Arthur who nodded.

“I know,” Arthur got up and moved towards her. “I shouldn’t have…”

Morgana just shook her head.

“No, that was me,” she said, appalled. “That was my fault.”

Arthur didn’t say anything but she knew he must be agreeing with her.

She decided that Camelot was messing with her head and that she needed to get out of there fast. After the fool she made of herself that morning, she wasn’t inclined to stick around and play catch up with Merlin and Arthur. She’d make it up to them somehow. Though they both insisted it was fine, she was still embarrassed.

She arrived back in London two days later. Gwen wasn’t there to greet her at the station because she’d been working all night and Morgana’s return had come as a surprise. She was expecting her, however, when she crawled into bed with her.

Morgana smiled at the sleeping beauty. It felt unreal that they were back together so soon when Morgana had thought they’d be apart for weeks again. She tried not to think of the unhappy circumstances that had brought it about and instead focused on the softness of Gwen’s hands and the sweet smell of her hair as she fell asleep.

She awoke with a start, gasping and sweating.

“Gwen?” she called out, panicked into the darkness. The heavy curtains were drawn so she couldn’t tell whether it was still light outside or not.

“Morgana?” Gwen awoke, concerned. She heard her roll over and then there were hands fumbling in the darkness. Then she was pulled into her chest. “What happened?”

“I had a dream… a nightmare.”

She heard Gwen sigh in the darkness and flick on the lamp beside the bed. Now she could see her sleepy and concerned face.

“You’ve been crying,” Gwen said softly and reached to wipe the tears away from her face. Morgana was surprised, she hadn’t noticed them before. “What was the nightmare about?”

Morgana faltered. She didn’t know if she could talk about the specifics. It was another one of those awful dreams with Uther and Arthur. She had been at their wedding, and they had just been about to get married when Uther, the fit and healthy Uther, was walking her down the aisle and when they reached the altar, he became the vicar and informed all the guests the real sordid truth of the matter. The room became suffocating and she turned to see Gwen, wearing a lavender bridesmaids dress, crying in the pews. But Gwen was so hurt and ashamed that she ran from the church but when Morgana tried to chase her she was too fast and then she fell and Gwen was gone. Quite abruptly, the dream had changed and she was suddenly at Tintagel with Uncle Agravaine and he was telling her that Uther had died and that his last words had been that he didn’t want her at his funeral, then Agravaine had hugged her and she'd felt trapped in his embrace. She felt dirty just thinking about it. The whole thing had been vivid and confusing and far more drawn out than any explanation could do it justice.

She had a panic stricken moment when she remembered she had not told Gwen about Arthur’s proposal. It had never seemed the right time. When was it the right time to tell your girlfriend that you were thinking about marrying someone else? Granted it was to escape the perils of matrimony to someone who might actually _expect_ something from her but still, it was a hard admission to make. In her defence, she hadn’t thought she needed to mention it to Gwen until it was actually a possibility. When Arthur had first suggested it, she had thought he was joking… or at least not entirely serious. The whole thing seemed like a passing fancy – not a solid plan. So when he’d called her in and asked her about it, and said they needed to get Uther’s blessing, it had all seemed so sudden and she got swept away in it. One moment it was a secret and the next this plan existed outside of the two of them, oh and Merlin. She couldn’t believe Merlin knew and Gwen didn’t. God, she needed to tell her before things got out of hand…

“Gwen, I need to tell you something,” Morgana said weakly and started to play with Gwen’s fingers.

“Mmmm,” she hummed and stroked Morgana’s hair. Upon catching onto her serious expression, though, she drew back. “Morgana? What is it?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you, something that was apparently more important than I first thought,” Morgana gulped as she tried to find the strength to continue. “But you mustn't be worried, it’s all in hand.”

She was so scared of Gwen being angry at her, both for what she’d thought about doing and for lying to her. Well, maybe not _lying._ Did it count as lying if she simply didn’t _mention_ that she was/had been (whatever) engaged to Arthur? Though, she had said _yes,_ hadn’t she? All without once mentioning it to Gwen.

“Morgana?” Gwen pressed and her brow creased with confusion.

“Arthur asked me to marry him,” she said finally.

“What? Why would he do that? He’s your brother!” Gwen looked at her in disbelief and it Morgana felt sick.

“This was before we found out,” Morgana clarified, “and I had said yes, that was why Uther told us about… that he’s my….” She looked down. Gwen was no longer holding her hand or trying to comfort her. Instead, she was looking at her in horror.

“But that was nearly two months ago. Why didn’t you _tell me?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Morgana admitted. “I was going to but then Uther was sick and there was never a right time. I couldn’t tell you on the phone or through a letter in case it got intercepted and I swore I was going to tell you last time I was here but I didn’t know how.”

Gwen sat in silence for a while and Morgana realised she was crying.

“I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” She was dumbfounded that was apparent. Dumbfounded and hurt and Morgana couldn’t think of anything to say to make it better. “Why didn’t you just tell me when you told me about Uther?”

Morgana was about to respond and try to make up some other excuse, but then Gwen blanched away and shifted further back.

“Then you had the _gall_ to make me feel so guilty about Lancelot when I did _nothing_. In the meantime, you’re getting _engaged_ to _Arthur_ of all people,” she said the words like they stung her. Morgana supposed this meant she was coming out of shock and all her worst fears were being realised. Gwen really was upset. “You hardly even like Arthur. All you’ve ever done is complain about him and suddenly you’re in this together? Merlin and Arthur have _nothing_ to do with us!”  

“Gwen-”

“Oh my God,” Gwen froze again. “Merlin knew didn't he?”

Morgana looked down, avoiding Gwen's gaze, and began to fiddle with the blanket covering her legs.

"Oh my God," Gwen said again accepting Morgana's silence for confirmation.

Gwen started laughing a little and it made Morgana shrink inside.

“So I’m the last to know then?” she said. “Silly little Gwen, is it? Not worth telling? Oh no, she’ll just fit in with everyone else’s plans!”

“Gwen, no-” Morgana felt about an inch tall. She knew that Merlin knowing would hurt Gwen even more. He was meant to be her friend, possibly her best friend. They’d all betrayed her.

“I love you more than anyone and I thought you felt the same but all this time you’ve been planning your life with someone else,” Gwen stared at her for a moment, holding her head high despite the sniffling. “Do you even understand what that means?”  

She clambered off the bed and headed towards the wardrobe. She started sifting through her day dresses furiously, looking for one she deemed acceptable.

“Gwen, please,” Morgana pleaded but Gwen shook her head.

“I need some space, Morgana,” she said sternly. “I can’t talk about this anymore right now. I’m going out.”

“Where are you going?” Morgana asked quietly.

“To see a friend,” Gwen said.

“When will you be back?” her voice cracked.

“I don’t know,” was all Gwen offered in the way of a response before she took her clothes into the bathroom to get dressed.

Morgana could hear the tap turn on full pelt but it didn’t disguise the sounds of sobbing coming from the bathroom for the next twenty minutes.

Morgana felt like the worst kind of person listening to the woman she loved break her heart crying, and she’d been the one to do that. She’d been the one to cause that pain through her lies.

It seemed like that was all Morgana was able to do recently was cause pain. First Arthur, now Gwen; presumably she’d offended Merlin too. Then there was _Uther._ He was probably still reeling from her behaviour and she hadn’t even _done_ the things he thought she had. More lies.

All she had wanted was to make a life somewhere for her and Gwen. She wanted to ensure that they’d be secure and have enough money. However, she _needed_ to fulfil her social duties and get married without being lumped with some awful man who’d want to _use_ her. That was her greatest fear. To marry someone she didn’t love who would treat her awfully. She knew social views on marriage had changed since the war. Very few young people married people they didn’t love these days on purpose. Still, she would be expected to marry. She wasn’t like Gwen. Gwen could remain single her whole life and no one would really care. Everyone still looked at Morgana as the orphan of Lord and Lady Le Fay and wanted to see her married well, as though that would somehow make up for the loss of her parents. As if that was the only thing that could ensure her happiness. But look at Morgause. She certainly married well, and she was certainly happier _without_ her husband than _with_ him. The only good thing to come out of their union was little Mordred.

Morgana heard Gwen come out of the bathroom. She didn’t make a move to look at her or talk to her, though. Instead, she stayed hidden under the blanket until she heard the door shut behind her. Then Morgana screamed into the pillow and became limp as sobs wracked her body.

She was terrified that that was it; that Gwen wouldn’t forgive her. They’d never had a serious disagreement before. They’d had spats but they’d been over silly things and they’d been resolved by the end of the day, if not immediately. Now Gwen had walked out on her with no word of when she’d be back.

Several hours passed and Gwen had still not returned. Morgana was sat at the table with Morgause, pushing her food around solemnly. Morgause had asked her what was wrong but Morgana had just shrugged. She couldn’t tell her sister what the matter was. To do that she’d have to tell her about Arthur and Morgause would never believe she was going to marry Arthur with no motive, not after years of complaining about him. To make sense of it, she’d have to betray Arthur and tell Morgause about their shared interests and if she’d gone that far then she might even have to tell her that Arthur was her brother. Morgana didn’t think she was ready for that. She wasn’t ready for Morgause to blanch away from her or reject her completely.

When it became apparent that Morgana wasn’t going to open up beyond the obligatory “mmmm,” when Morgause asked if she’d fallen out with Gwen, they sat and ate their meal in silence. Morgana didn’t look up much but when she did she could see Morgause scowling in annoyance and gazing in concern intermittently, switching between emotions so visibly as she tackled how to approach Morgana’s problem in her head. Fortunately, she never got to interrogate her as Morgana excused herself as soon as she’d finished eating and slipped back up to her bedroom to flop on the bed and wait for Gwen’s return.

She startled awake the next day still in her clothes and with no sign of Gwen. Now, on top of her fear of abandonment, she was also scared for Gwen’s safety. Flashbacks to the night Gwen broke her ankle kept springing into her mind. She could see Gwen, cold and damp, down that ditch and wanted to be sick at the thought of what could have happened to her in London. What if she’d tried to come home late? What if she’d never even _made it_ to her friend’s house? Gwen had left no number, no address at which to find her; but she hadn’t packed for an extended trip and that raised questions. Morgana shot into motion, rushing through the halls to find Morgause, calling her name.

“Morgause!” she called knocking on her bedroom door. She heard grumbling and her sister answered a moment later in her night dress looking very peeved.

“’Gana, it is six in the morning! What is the _matter?_ ”

“Gwen didn’t come home!” she said. There was no time to feel any remorse about waking up Morgause, not if Gwen was in danger.

“Of course, she didn’t.  She’s staying with her brother,” Morgause frowned, confused.

“What?”

“She telephoned after you’d gone to bed to say she was safe but would be staying with her brother,” Morgause said as though it was obvious. “Did you not see the note I left by your door?”

Morgana shook her head, feeling silly.

“’Gana, please tell me what’s going on,” Morgause sighed, opening her door wider to welcome her sister in her room. She got back into bed and pulled the covers up to her neck, clearly not awake enough for a conversation but trying to be nonetheless.

“We just had a fight, I told you,” she said dismissively, trying to laugh it off. “It’s nothing.”

Something in her tone must have given her away because Morgause did not look convinced.

“Then why has she up and left without telling you where she’s gone?” Morgause quirked a brow in a challenge.

Morgana shrugged.

“Okay, so it was more than just your average _spat_ but it’s not like I’ve absolutely destroyed the trust on which our relationship is based… no, that would be ridiculous.”

“’Gana,” Morgause warned and patted the spot next to her on the bed. Morgana sighed before she gave in and climbed on the bed next to Morgause. “Now tell me what has happened.”

Morgana intended to instantaneously come up with some lie that was both convincing and foolproof. Instead, she burst into tears.

“Oh, shhh, my dove, come here,” Morgause cooed and pulled her into her arms. “Tell me all about it.”

“I did something stupid,” Morgana started. “Something that I think I can’t make right.”

“Go on,” Morgause urged.

“Arthur asked me to marry him, and I said yes,” she admitted.

Morgause pulled away and looked at her strangely.

“Why would you do that?” she asked

“I don’t know, I was upset about Uther, I was confused.”

“But why would he _propose_ to you?” she pushed.

“He’s in love with me, or so he says,” Morgana lied. “I suppose the shock of Uther’s illness drove him to it, perhaps that’s all it was and he didn’t want to appear ridiculous. Nevertheless, I said yes.”

“Do you love him?” she asked earnestly.

Morgana shrugged, at a loss for words. Yes, she did love him but as a brother, no matter his glaring faults.

“I always thought there was something between you two,” Morgause commented and Morgana had to resist protesting. _Why did everyone seem to think she had feelings for Arthur?_ “So why didn’t you tell me until now?”

Morgana looked at her sister and nearly choked.

“When we went to tell Uther, he told us something,” Morgana said and swallowed deeply. “Uther is my father.”

Morgause let out a small yet audible gasp but it was nothing like the response Morgana had expected.

“I knew it,” Morgause claimed fiercely, though she did not appear angry or upset. She looked more like one would after hearing a juicy bit of gossip.

“What?” Morgana shook her head. How could Morgause have _known?_

“Well, I didn’t _know_ it,” Morgause amended. “But I’ve had my suspicions ever since I heard him and our mother talking once. It was shortly before I got married and they were talking about you in a way that made think that perhaps… and then when he took you in after our par- umm, after mother and father’s deaths…”  she cringed at her choice of wording. Perhaps it would have been better if she had just continued with her original sentence.

“I see,” supplied Morgana for want of something better to say.

“And what of Arthur?” Morgause pushed.

“What of him?”

“Well, other than the half-brother aspect, he’s a desirable match, is he not? All that money and land? What has he had to say about it?” Morgause said, catching Morgana off-guard.

“It’s been confusing. He thinks we can work around it; it’s why Uther sent me back here. He said he thought it would be too upsetting for me to be around Arthur but, Morgause, understand that I _love Gwen. She_ is the one that I want to spend my life with and Arthur knows that.” She said this without meaning to. “He doesn’t mind.”

Morgause tightened her grip on her sister.

“Who else knows?” she demanded.

“Just you and Arthur, no one else, I promise,” Morgana figured leaving Merlin’s name completely out of it was the best option. She needed to protect him from this in case it blew up. She trusted Morgause to keep her secret because it was hers, whereas Merlin was dispensable to Morgause and best kept out of it.

“Sister,” she sighed. “Can you be sure you can trust Arthur?”

Morgana nodded, knowing that Arthur would keep her secret to his grave as long as she kept his. Upon realising this she was suddenly relieved she hadn’t told Morgause about Merlin. If Arthur had told one of his close confidants, say, _Leon_ _,_ about her and Gwen she would never have forgiven him.

“Then marry him,” Morgause said plainly.

Morgana coughed in disbelief and said something along the lines of “excuse me?”

“He’s the heir to the Camelot estate. With that comes opportunity and advantageous wealth, not to mention it is rightfully _yours_ after all. You _are_ Uther’s eldest child.”

“But I’m not legitimate,” Morgana argued.

“No,” Morgause agreed, “but it won’t matter if you wed him. If he still wants you even now then you must seize this chance. Plus, you can keep Gwen. What more can you want?”

“But… children!” she managed to stutter out and that was Morgana’s only true qualm with the plan now. The one she couldn’t shake. It was its one fundamental flaw.

“Well, they don’t have to be _Arthur’s_ do they, dear sister?” Morgause said and Morgana deflated. “Think about it. And as for Gwen, she’ll be back later today to collect her things. I’m supposed to distract you and get you out of the house but if you just _happen_ to be here you could perhaps persuade her to stay. Explain yourself and she’ll surely understand,” Morgause soothed and Morgana believed her for a moment. She felt the beginnings of relief set in. She’d grown so used to taking what her sister said as fact that she half believed it was already so before she realised she still had the hard bit to come. Getting Gwen back on her side was going to be difficult. She just had to prove that she was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. She’d do anything Gwen wanted, in all honesty. She’d live in poverty if it were with Gwen.

“Thank you, sister,” Morgana said and hugged Morgause.


	10. Chapter Ten

Gwen jumped a little when she saw Morgana in their bedroom.

“Morgause said you were out,” she said, disgruntled. 

“I know," Morgana said plainly. “Gwen, we need to talk.”

Gwen folded her arms over her chest, clearly tired, and waited for Morgana to continue. She looked exhausted and Morgana wondered if she’d slept well or if her ankle had been acting her up or if she’d had enough to eat or if she’d been cold last night without her…

“I’m so sorry, Gwen,” Morgana burst into tears but Gwen didn’t move to comfort her. She just shifted uncomfortably and eyed her warily.

“What for?” she said hesitantly, as though she wanted to hear Morgana say what she’d done wrong to be sure she knew why she was apologising.

“For not telling you about Arthur’s proposal when it happened, for saying yes without talking to you, for lying,” she said through gasping breaths. “You’re the last person on this Earth that I would want to hurt but I’ve done it anyway so carelessly. It scares me how easy it was. Tell me how to fix it, I _need to fix it._ ”

“Morgana,” Gwen said softly and Morgana froze, waiting eagerly for what she said next. Her heart was pounding and she struggled against her reflex to sob again. The fight was evident on her features. “I don’t know how you can fix it right now,” Gwen continued and Morgana’s head begun to spin.

“Gwen, _please,_ I was stupid, I know that! Please don’t leave me!”

“If you’d let me _finish,_ ” Gwen said sternly and Morgana felt like she’d been scolded. She shut up and waiting for Gwen to say her peace.

“I just need some space, for a few days, while I get my head around it,” Gwen said.

“Surely it would be better if we _talked_ about it?” Morgana questioned.

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut.

“We can talk about it, but I still would like to spend a few days at my brother’s.”

Morgana nodded eagerly and waited for Gwen to start. She was quiet for a moment before she began to speak.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was a question she’d asked before, but it was the one that must have been nagging Gwen the most in the last day. Why _didn’t_ she tell her? Morgana wondered. There was no real reason for it.

“I told you, I don’t know. At the time, it felt like it was just a passing fancy but then it became very real, very fast. I didn’t know if I wanted it. If I'd told you it would have been more like it was  _happening,_ not just something Arthur and I had speculated about and I knew how much it would hurt you. It seemed like the best option at the time but it’s not my _dream,_ ” she said out loud for the first time. “I just didn’t _believe_ it was going to happen. Then when it became more real it became shameful because of Uther, it became so much more complicated to explain and I was embarrassed." 

“I wouldn’t have judged you,” Gwen told her.

“I know,” Morgana sighed. She could sense Gwen warming up to her and it felt like familiar territory.

“What was the rest of the plan that you and Arthur had cooked up then?”

She explained the plan to her in great detail. She told her about the house she, Gwen, Arthur and Merlin were to share; how safe it would be, how free. She also stressed how far in the future they had been planning. It wasn’t something that was going to happen that year or even the year after. It would be several years when Arthur was coming into an age where he’d be looking for a wife.

“People will ask questions of us, Gwen, you must understand that.”

Gwen nodded sadly. She’d worked in service for years. She knew the expectations of lords and ladies. Now that they were talking about it, Morgana could see Gwen become more accepting of the choices she’d made but obviously, she was under no illusions. She knew Gwen was upset about the lying over the engagement itself but Morgana didn’t really have a good excuse for that.

They talked it out for several hours and slowly but surely Morgana became comfortable enough to be sure she hadn’t lost Gwen. It wasn’t over between them, it was just a little shaky but they were still rooted deep enough to not topple over.

“Are you still going back to your brother’s?”

Gwen shook her head.

“I think,” she started with a shy smile, “it’s a little too late for that. Wait there, I’ll go and phone him.”

Gwen got up from the bed and, before she left the room, kissed Morgana on the cheek. Morgana’s heart swelled at the fact Gwen was _staying._ She wasn’t angry anymore and she was, hopefully, going to stay in their bed tonight.

When Gwen returned, however, Morgana was a little nervous. She wondered if she would sleep in the next room instead, or if she was still upset. These worries faded when she saw Gwen’s face. She was smiling coyly and pushed the door closed with her bum. Morgana’s face lit up at the sight of her.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” Gwen said softly as she moved towards Morgana on the bed.

“Oh, really,” Morgana smirked. “What would you like to do instead?”

“Not talk,” Gwen repeated and kissed Morgana.

Morgana closed her eyes and suddenly everything was right with the world again. She felt all the stress and the emotional upheaval of the last day, the last week really, start to lift as she lost herself in Gwen’s kiss. Gwen lay her head down on Morgana's shoulder, relaxing into her embrace. 

“I should still be angry at you,” she whispered into Morgana’s ear. “But I can’t be. Not for long.”

Morgana smiled slightly and kissed her temple. “I thought you said you didn’t want to talk?"

“Mmmm, maybe that would be best," Gwen sighed.  

And she kissed her again.


	11. Chapter Eleven

It was June when she and Gwen got the keys to their first flat together. It was a two bedroom, third-floor sanctuary that was a five-minute walk from Gwen’s new job at a dress shop. She’d picked up the apprenticeship before leaving her job at Avalon. It was never Gwen’s dream to be a singer and she was loathing the late night shifts when she could be with Morgana. Regardless of how it came about, it wasn’t long until they considered it home. Morgana hadn’t been back to Camelot since she’d been expelled in April but made phone calls to Arthur every other day to check on Uther’s health. Sometimes she even spoke to Uther himself but those conversations were normally strained and not very drawn out. Uther had never been very good with personal phone calls but this was on a whole new level.

With Gwen away at work all day, Morgana set about achieving the goal of domestic goddess. They’d decided against hiring a maid for want of ultimate privacy in their home life as well as wanting to keep their expenses down. The rent was being paid from her inheritance money but the cost of food and general bills were dealt with by Gwen, who insisted on being the breadwinner for once. It wasn’t long, however, before Morgana became restless and started to wonder what other ways she might use to fill her time.

“I mean it’s perfectly fine playing the part of your little wife, I quite enjoy it actually,” she said, smiling at the thought of Gwen when she came home at the end of the day to eat whatever experiment Morgana had concocted for dinner before Morgana pulled a tired Gwen off to bed to be worshipped until she fell asleep. “The thing is, though, it gets a little boring around the house by myself. I think I need a job, too!”

Gwen smiled at the suggestion. No doubt she thought it a humorous thought, her lady lover trying to rough it in the world of work. Admittedly, Morgana didn’t like the sound of a lot of the jobs out there. She couldn’t work in a service position, society wouldn’t permit it and if Uther found out (which he surely would if one of their friends saw her) his brain might explode all that much quicker. She didn’t have any formal training so that put a lot of jobs out of the question. Morgana, however, had always considered herself quite creative. She’d excelled in art at school as well as story writing.

“I’m going to become an artist,” she said confidently over the leek and potato soup she’d prepared for dinner.

“I thought you were going to get a job?” Gwen asked.

Morgana’s eyes snapped up.

“That is the job! Being an artist is a job!”

“Oh, right… I just thought, no, never mind, that’s a great idea,” Gwen bit her lip.

“What?” Morgana demanded, a little higher than she’d meant to. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing!” Gwen insisted. “It’s just not... what I was expecting.” Gwen pulled _the face._ The face she pulled when she had talked herself into a corner and was uncomfortable.

“You think it’s impractical,” Morgana pouted.

“Maybe just a little,” Gwen said apologetically.

Morgana sighed.

“Perhaps you’re right. I draw enough now as it is but it’s not like I’m doing anything innovating,” she admitted. “I don’t think it’s what I want to do anyway.”

“What _do_ you want to do?” Gwen urged and Morgana felt hopeless in the face of that question.

“I don’t know,” she looked down at her bowl of soup. “I want to do something useful.”

“It’ll come to you,” Gwen soothed and squeezed her hand over the table.

Despite her kind words, Morgana kind of felt defeated. The artist option had been the only thing she could think of that might be acceptable within society. She could justify that, she thought, to her friends and Uther when they asked about what she was doing with herself. So many women were getting jobs these days that wouldn’t have before the war but they were all middle-class women. Women like Morgana with titles were still limited in so many ways, not that she was ungrateful for the life she’d had or saw herself as _unfortunate._ No, that wasn’t it at all. But a lot of the time she was jealous of girls who could do whatever they wanted without having to worry about staining their reputation. Mud sticks, and if she were to put a foot wrong or _lower_ herself in the eyes of her peers then she wouldn’t be able to recover. The real question was, how long would she care about that? Every day it felt like that world was less and less important to her – farther away in this little flat with Gwen. And did she belong there at all? After all, everything she had in the way of titles and social standing she’d inherited through her mother’s advantageous marriage. She herself was a bastard born by Lord Gorlois Le Fay’s wife. Her very existence mocked the upper-class sensibilities of which they were so fond. When she’d first found out about that, it had made her feel sick; as though she was an intruder in the world she thought she was her own. Then she started to resent that and realise that those barriers shouldn’t exist in the first place. There should be no higher and lower birth. There should be no “suitable position” for her because of that! And there most certainly shouldn’t be a suitable partner either. She realised she was becoming quite the family Socialist and God, wouldn’t Uther be mortified at that.

Morgana made her way back to Camelot later that month for a ten-day visit at Uther’s request. Gwen had to work so she stayed behind. Morgana supposed that was for the best, anyway. Although she’d resigned from her position at their household, Gwen would have had to stay in the servants’ quarters instead of with Morgana. She didn’t like the idea of that one bit even if Gwen insisted that she wouldn’t have minded anyway.

She arrived back at Camelot mid afternoon. The heavens decided to open for her return and she and Arthur had to make a dash for it back to the car to avoid getting wet; typical English summer. Arthur seemed in good spirits, albeit a little thinner than when she’d last seen him three months previous. A whole hoard of nursing staff had moved into the house, ready to cater to Uther’s every need day and night. It alarmed Morgana how much care was on hand but when she saw Uther, he seemed healthy enough. Certainly not ill enough to warrant four live-in nurses… but, then again, Arthur was nothing if not thorough. Merlin had preoccupied himself with Arthur’s pregnant cat who was coming to the end of her term. He was sat in the drawing room and when she walked through the door he greeted her with the widest smile.

“You both really should come up to see Gwen and me in our new flat,” she said as they took drinks that evening in the library. Uther had retired early to bed with fatigue. Morgana shrunk inside realising how much he actually had deteriorated since she’d last seen him. She couldn’t believe she’d been away so long.

“Sounds lovely,” Arthur replied. “But I really can’t be leaving father, not with his health.”

“Of course, perhaps Merlin could come and stay for a few days? We have a spare room,” she offered, referring to the room they’d dressed as Gwen’s. “It would be lovely to have you, Merlin.”

“Oh, uh, I,” he stuttered and looked to Arthur who looked dismayed.

“If you want to go, Merlin,” Arthur said despite himself but Morgana could tell he was reluctant. She supposed she could understand that but she’d left Gwen before in order to visit Camelot.

“What if something happens when I’m gone?” Merlin asked, worried, and she started to regret asking.

“Well, think about it,” Morgana interjected. “There’s no reason to decide now. I won’t be offended if you decline.”

“I think it would be good for you,” Arthur said eventually with a small smile. “It’s not fair for you to be cooped up with me with all this death and misery.”

“I don’t mind,” Merlin pushed. “I’d stay anywhere with you,” he blushed when he remembered that Morgana was still there.

Arthur looked at him fondly and entwined their fingers.

“What did I ever do to deserve you, Merlin?” Arthur sighed and kissed him softly. Merlin seemingly melted against him before they pulled back with a gasp. Arthur looked to Morgana apologetically but she had to laugh.

“God, Arthur, who knew you were such a romantic?” she teased.

“Must be all that bourbon,” Merlin joked. “He’s not normally like this.”

Arthur gave him a slight shove for that.

Two days later, Morgause arrived with Mordred to visit Uther. She said she had to see him before he kicked the bucket. It was only respectful after he’d taken her sister in so kindly. People would look down on her if she didn’t make the time.

She strutted into the hall wearing a beautiful cream day dress and Morgana rushed down the stairs to meet her and her nephew.

“Sister!” Morgause greeted warmly and embraced her. “Arthur!” she smiled and Morgana turned to see Arthur looking a little sheepish as he came to greet Morgause. He’d always been like that around her. Morgana wondered if it was because she was older than them and he felt a bit out of his depth. Though, Arthur was never the sort to be bashful.

“Morgause, it’s lovely to see you! You look well,” Arthur said conversationally.

“As do you,” she looked him up and down with an appraising smirk. Merlin was nowhere in sight but if he were Morgana suspected he would be grinding his teeth trying to hold his tongue.

She took her sister by the hand and led her into the library until lunch was served. Arthur made himself scarce, for which Morgana was thankful. He’d already irritated her that morning by doing little else other than being his usual self.

“Well, that was weird,” Morgause smirked after Morgana shut the door. “He’s certainly grown up, though. Quite handsome now, too. He always was… but he just had that little bit more growing up to do, don’t you think, ‘Gana?”

“I suppose,” Morgana said, distractedly, summoning Mordred to sit with her on the sofa. “Arthur has had his old nursery aired out for Mordred to play in,” she told them. “There are some lovely toys in there.”

“How kind,” Morgause commented, “we’ll have a look soon, won’t we, Mordred?”

The boy nodded and smiled. Mordred never spoke much and it was always frustrating to Morgause and Cenred. He was a smart boy, though, as was clear from the academic work he did with his tutor. Cenred wanted to send Mordred off to school the following year but Morgause was fighting it. She didn’t want her son to be away from her for so long… especially when she didn’t know if he’d be able to hold his own. Morgana wasn’t fond of the idea either, but perhaps the change of scenery would allow him to thrive.

As they didn’t have a nanny on the estate, Arthur left Mordred with Merlin while they ate lunch. When they went back to retrieve them, they found Merlin teaching him magic tricks in the nursery.

“Mama!” Mordred exclaimed when she and Morgause stuck their head around the door. “Merlin can do magic! He’s teaching me!”

Both Morgana and Morgause laughed at the blush that stained Merlin’s cheeks at the attention.

“Well, he’s certainly worked his magic on _you_ ,” Morgause smiled. “Thank you, Merlin. Do you think you could keep him a little longer?

“Of course, my lady,” Merlin agreed readily. It wasn’t like he had any other choice, really. It was essentially an order and he was a servant, but Morgause had a way of making things seem like they were someone else’s idea or they had a choice.

They left Mordred in the nursery and went downstairs to discuss matters of _the most delicate nature_. Morgana had little clue of what said matters were but she hoped they had nothing to do with Gwen. Arthur had excused himself again, having been not quite himself at lunch. Perhaps he was ill, perhaps not. It was of little concern to Morgana.

Morgause pulled her into the music room and pushed the door to. It wasn’t often people came down to this part of the house anymore now that Uther was ill and Morgana had moved out. She’d used to play the piano for Uther sometimes just because it pleased him. He often made Arthur stand and watch (Arthur had never been musically talented) and she always used to feel so smug as he huffed in agitation. She would drag out her performance, playing piece after piece and watch with a little smirk as Arthur shifted from foot to foot, slowly getting tired. Perhaps she should feel bad about it now. She didn’t.

“I’ve always loved this room,” Morgause said airily as she approached the silk embroideries on the wall. “So… decadent,” she sighed. “Do you remember when Cenred and I visited for the first time since you came to live here and you played us all the most lovely piece?”

Morgana nodded, smiling at the memory.

“And to think, one day you will be mistress of all this!” Morgause eyed her fondly. “My little sister, the Countess of Camelot, just as she was meant to be.”

“Oh, I’m not too sure about that,” Morgana mumbled.

“Why ever not? Have you spoken to Arthur about it since you’ve been back?” Morgause asked.

“No,” Morgana said. “And I don’t intend to. I’m not marrying Arthur. I’m perfectly happy as I am.”

“‘Gana! I thought this was settled,” Morgause protested. “How will you keep yourself if you do not marry?”

“I’ll get a job,” Morgana shrugged.

“A job? Oh, darling! How awful! Women like us don’t get _jobs,_ ” Morgause scrunched up her nose at the thought.

“You know, for a self-professed liberal thinker, you really are shallow. Why is it that I shouldn’t get a job to pay my way in this world while it's perfectly acceptable for someone like, say, Gwen? What makes us different?”

“’Gana, you’re being ridiculous,” Morgause glared. “Why would you want that? You’ve said yourself that Arthur loves you. He’s willing to even put up with Gwen on your behalf. Surely you must be happy with that?”

Morgana groaned.

“Not to mention,” Morgause continued, “that this is your _home_ now. We can’t go back to Tintagel, not without Agravaine haunting the halls, listening at our bedroom doors; and by all rights, this is _your_ estate just as much as it is Arthur’s. You’re simply righting the wrong that was out of your hands.”

“You mean my being born?” Morgana pulled a face.

“No! I mean the ruling that _we_ could not inherit our father’s estate. This way both of us are in a position of security, we needn’t worry ever again.”  

“Well, perhaps this was how it was meant to be,” Morgana sighed. “Maybe I’m not fit for this life."

“Are you telling me you want to pass up the chance of becoming the Countess of Camelot, simply so you can rot away in that little _flat_ of yours? You were _born to this life,_ Morgana!” Morgause said persuasively.

“Why can’t you just accept that this isn’t what I want?” Morgana stared, wide eyed at her sister. This argument was becoming exasperating and she felt herself close to tears.

“Because you are being foolish! Foolish and _selfish!_ You need to take what is rightfully yours. This whole estate should be yours by _right,_ ‘Gana! Arthur Pendragon won’t be here forever. Eventually, some other pretty girl is going to turn his head soon enough and this whole idea will sound absurd to him. Right now he’s confused, blinded by his infatuation, and to make things even more delicious; _you’ve become forbidden fruit._ ‘Gana, this will be so easy. You just have to marry him and everything he has is yours.”

Morgana was about to reply, argue, agree or _something,_ but then there was a knock on the door.

Morgause froze.

“Come in!” she called out and the door opened, revealing Merlin and an upset looking Mordred.

“He wanted his mother,” Merlin explained. Then he remembered himself and added: “sorry for interrupting, my lady, we’ve been all over the house looking for you _._ ”

“It’s quite alright, Merlin,” Morgana smiled tightly. "I'm sorry we were so hard to find."

Morgause walked towards Mordred and took his hand, leading him away from the music room. It seemed the conversation had become too much for her as well and she required some much-needed breathing space.

“Are you alright, Merlin?” Morgana asked. He didn’t seem himself, his face was pensive and she could only guess at how much he’d heard.

He eyed her warily, clearly calculating something and Morgana shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Then he smiled a bright, fake smile.

“Perfect,” he said. “Perhaps a little tired, though. Children can be exhausting.”

“He really likes you,” Morgana said conversationally. “Not many people can get him to come out of his shell like that.”

“Thank you,” Merlin replied and asked to be excused to go back to work. They parted ways with friendly words but Morgana couldn’t help the nervous feeling in her stomach that he wasn’t entirely happy with her.

He didn’t stay silent on the matter for long as she found herself being pulled into an alcove on her way through the gallery. She stifled a scream as she caught sight of who it was.

“What the bloody hell are you playing it?” she glared.

“Are you going to take advantage of Arthur?”

“What?” she scoffed playing innocent.

“I heard what Morgause said to you in the music room,” he said. “Are you going to marry Arthur for his money?”

“Well it’s hardly for love, is it, Merlin?”

He gave her a pained look.

“Are you going to trick him? Cheat him out of the estate?”

“No,” she answered truthfully. “The plan is as it always was… that is _if_ it goes ahead; which I don’t think it will anymore. Morgause can say what she likes but in my heart, I know it’s wrong.”

“Morgana,” Merlin sighed.

“I don’t want to live a lie, Merlin. I want to be free.” She needed him to understand, he looked at her sadly.

“Morgana, what will we do without you?”

“Find some other lesbian with a want for grandeur?” she offered with a weak smile. “I don’t know… there must be something you can do… put an ad’ in the paper, I don’t know.”

“You’ve been in the city too long,” he laughed.

“Not long enough, I should think,” she said.

“Look, I know I haven’t been the most positive person about the whole arrangement,” he said honestly, “but I understand why Arthur thinks it’s a good idea. In this scenario, we’re all protected. Strength in numbers, and all that,” he continued.

“Merlin, the purpose of marriages like this is to produce an heir, something that Arthur and I _cannot_ do together. What would be the solution? You and I have a child together to keep everything quiet? Then what? I’m not gonna just keep shtum and be a good sport about it, Merlin. I want my own life. I’ve changed so much over the last few months… the way I see everything, my priorities, they’ve all changed. I’m not afraid anymore.”

Merlin looked at her in awe.

“Well, I’m happy for you,” he said genuinely. “If not a little jealous.”

“Don’t be,” she smiled. “You two will make sense of this. There will be something for you both.”

“Do you think we’ll stay together?” he asked, vulnerable.

“Yes,” she replied. “Arthur needs you. I’ve never seen him so connected to someone before, so in tune. I think the both of you are made for each other, like two sides of the same coin.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

“I’ve decided what I want to do,” Morgana told Gwen the evening she’d got back from Camelot. She was very pleased with herself. After having come up with a plan for her life she’d never felt more at peace. What’s more, was that this time, it was a plan for _her_ life. It was a goal, a challenge, a vision for her future and best of all it was a future for her and Gwen.

“Go on then,” Gwen smiled and kissed her. They’d been kissing and touching non-stop since they’d made it through the door. Even though both of them were tired, Gwen more so from working for days on end, they still couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Gwen was now sat next to her on their sofa in her silky pink robe that she’d made herself. Morgana had a matching cream one lying on their bed and they both had their initials embroidered on the chest. For now, though, Morgana sat in the nude as Gwen traced patterns down her back.

“I’m going to learn how to run a business,” she explained. “Then, eventually, when we can afford it, I was hoping we could open our own shop.”

Gwen gasped at the idea.

“Morgana! Do you mean it? That’s a wonderful idea!” she gushed. “As long as it’s what you really want,” Gwen added. “I don’t want you just doing it for me… not that I think you would or anything-”

“Shhh,” Morgana pressed her finger to Gwen’s lips and chuckled. When Gwen had quieted down Morgana kissed her. “I’m doing this for us. Because I want us to build our future together, _be_ together,” she continued.

“Okay,” Gwen smiled, giddy.  

Morgana spent the next three weeks reading books from the library about business management, marketing and several “how to be successful” type guides. She got some funny looks from the librarian when she went to check out but she ignored him. She was finally doing something useful, something that would help Gwen. 

In August she met Annis Caerleon, a fierce widow who’d taken on her husband’s businesses after his death and had turned it into a small empire.

“I’m willing to give you a trial,” she’d said after Morgana had pitched herself as a _hardworking young woman ready to tackle the world of business._ “ _If_ I think you cut it then we can talk about a full-time job.”

Morgana had agreed eagerly. She was ready for _anything_ Mrs. Caerleon put to her… or so she thought. On Monday morning she arrived at the address Mrs. Caerleon had given her at seven in the morning ready to show her mettle. When she got there she found herself in a butchers shop down to the back of the main street. She walked in, a little timidly, and, once she’d introduced herself to the large, rather scary looking butcher named Derian, he handed her a cloth and bucket and told her to start scrubbing. _That_ was how Morgana ended up on her hands and knees scrubbing the dirty and sometimes bloody floor of Mrs. Caerleon's backstreet butchers shop. She felt bile gathering in her throat but she had to prove herself. She started up a little mantra in her head. _I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can-_

“You surprise me, Lady Morgana.”

“Elyan!” she smiled in surprise at Gwen’s brother who was standing at the entrance to the shop. The door was open due to the August heat and the meat had taken a certain smell. She immediately got over her initial excitement over seeing her friend when she realised she was sat on the floor with a bucket of dirty water, wearing a hairnet. 

“This is the new job, I take it?”

“Well, yes, gotta start somewhere,” she said breezily, eyeing her washcloth with embarrassment.

“You certainly do,” Elyan agreed. He looked at Derian behind the counter who was eyeing him up suspiciously and turned back to Morgana. “Look, I’ll leave you to it. You can tell me about it when I see you next, yeah? Can’t be _loitering_ anymore.”

She nodded at him before he left and caught sight of Derian’s face. For a moment she thought he was going to say something rude about Elyan but he didn’t and she was thankful. She made a point of working twice as hard after that. She didn’t want Derian telling Mrs. Caerleon that she was a slacker.

When she got home at six, Gwen was already waiting for her.

“Oh, baby!” she exclaimed when she saw her. “You look absolutely exhausted.”

Morgana nodded, unable to speak, and fell into Gwen’s arms. She didn’t think she’d ever looked so awful in front of Gwen… not since the time she’d nearly _died_ of a chest infection. Though she could have dropped dead right there in the kitchen and she would have been fine with that with the way she felt.

“And my _God,_ you stink!” Gwen gagged as she pushed Morgana away with her little finger. The tired Morgana toppled over a little and landed in one of their kitchen chairs. “What did she have you _do?_ ”

“I’ve spent the day in a butcher’s shop scrubbing floors,” Morgana pouted. “I feel disgusting and miserable and everything hurts and I have to do it all again tomorrow,” she was near tears with the thought of it.

“Okay, get into bed. I’ll run down to the chippy and bring us back something for tea, yeah?”

“Mmmm,” Morgana nodded.

“Actually, on second thought, go have a wash while I’m gone… I don’t want that smell on my sheets,” she said and blew her a kiss (because touching her again was out the question) before she left.

Morgana trotted over to the bathroom and freshened up.

Gwen was back within twenty minutes with a bag of fish and chips just as Morgana was walking out the bathroom.

“I don’t know what to do about my hair,” she frowned. “It stinks but I only washed it last night.”

“I supposed that’s why most working girls don’t have luscious princess locks,” Gwen winked.

It was true. Morgana’s hair was past her waist and was rapidly approaching her bottom. Washing it was always a nightmare but she normally had Gwen to help her with that.

“You don’t think I’m a spoiled princess, do you?” Morgana pouted, popping a chip in her mouth and grimacing.

“No, dear,” Gwen bit her lip.

“I think I might get a haircut,” Morgana said thoughtfully.

Gwen looked ready to protest, she loved Morgana’s hair. She loved brushing it and twirling it around her fingers. She did not, however, like finding long black hairs around the house and in the drain.

“How short?” Gwen asked. “No shorter than the shoulders, though,” she said quickly. “I don’t think it would suit you.”

“Probably about there then,” Morgana mumbled feeling exhausted all over again. “Do you think I could sell it? To make wigs?”

Gwen shrugged.

“Maybe, you’d have to look into it.”

They didn’t talk much after that. They finished off their food, but after the day Morgana had had it wasn’t all that appetising. Not that she enjoyed it much anyway, it was just that Gwen didn’t like cooking and she always said “let’s get a chippy!” when it looked like she was going to have to turn on the stove to make something other than a cake.

After dinner, Morgana wandered into their bedroom, pulled up the bedding and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Fortunately, Gwen had the foresight to set the alarm for the morning because, as if by magic, the bell was ringing all too soon and Morgana was rolling out of bed to do much the same thing as she did the day before… only stiffer.

At the end of the fourth day, Mrs. Caerleon showed up at the shop.

“I must say, Miss Le Fay, I’m impressed,” she told her. “I honestly thought you would bottle it but here you are.”

“Here I am,” Morgana agreed.

“Hmmm,” Mrs. Caerleon hummed and was seemingly looking her up and down.

Morgana resisted the temptation to shift uncomfortably and raised her chin as though she were wearing a pristine ball gown and not a damp and dirty tunic dress and a hairnet.

“Y’know, I mentioned your name to one of the blokes at the bookies and he seemed to think the Le Fays were some big moneyed family with an estate in Cornwall, said his cousin’s husband used to work for them. Anything to do with you?”

“Distant relatives,” Morgana shrugged innocently. “ _Very_ distant relatives.”

“Thought so,” Mrs. Caerleon laughed. “Imagine, some high lady scrubbing my shop floor.”

“I know, could you imagine?”

She and Mrs. Caerleon shared a laugh, though they were laughing for two different reasons. She seemed to have warmed to Morgana quite a bit, though and was no longer assessing her with a scrutinising eye.

“You know, when you came in my office with your nice clothes and fancy shoes… I thought you were just some posh bitch who thought she could make a success of herself without any real work,” Mrs. Caerleon chuckled. “But look at you. You’ve surprised me… I like that.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Caerleon,” Morgana said, though she wasn’t sure if all of it was a compliment or not.

“Call me boss,” Annis stated.

Morgana paused as she processed what she said. Then burst with excitement.

“Do you mean it? Really?” she gasped.

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Caerleon rolled her eyes. “Now go home and get some rest. I want you at my office for half nine tomorrow.”

“Thank you! Thank you! You won’t regret it!” Morgana gushed and ran home to tell Gwen.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

****Merlin arrived in September for two days. Both Morgana had Gwen had been able to get the entire weekend off for the occasion. He showed up in a nice looking grey suit, and it momentarily shocked Morgana that he wasn’t in his uniform.

 “I brought your gift,” he smiled holding up a basket.

 Morgana squealed in excitement and Gwen eyed the box warily.

 “She won’t scratch me, will she?” 

“Nah, she’s sweet as anything! I kept taking her out on the train because I felt bad about her being stuck in there on her own and she was purring and everything,” Merlin grinned and handed Morgana the cat case.

When they got back to the flat she ushered them all into the living room and took the basket to the sofa before opening the catch and looking inside.

“Hello!” she exclaimed when she saw the tiny snowy white kitten. “Hello, Aithusa!”

“Aithusa?” Gwen queried.

“Yes, don’t you think it’s divine? Merlin came up with it. He just picked her up and _knew,_ ” Morgana said, overflowing with pride. “I love her already. I just feel…” she was at a loss for words so she heaved a heavy sigh of relief to demonstrate her point.

Because of the cat, they were unable to go out. Morgana had offered to stay at home while Gwen and Merlin went and had dinner but both had refused. They said it would be no fun without her, and they’d only feel guilty all night anyway. Instead, they sat in the living room drinking wine.

“You know, I once wrote an erotic love poem about Arthur’s arse while he was at university,” Merlin admitted from where he was sprawled out on the sofa.

“I don’t know where we start with this,” Morgana frowned, stroking Aithusa in her lap. “The subject or the fact you write poems.” She did not say this last thing with malice or mockery. She was genuinely intrigued about this new piece of information.

“Merlin’s a very talented writer,” Gwen vouched for him. “Although, I thankfully have not read this one,” she finished with a small grimace.

Merlin laughed at himself and it shook his entire body.

“ _O’ rich, ripe plum,”_ he began to recite. “ _Such a juicy fruit-”_

“Oh, Jesus,” Gwen groaned.

“No, do go on Merlin, in fact, where might one read this epic?”

“Arthur has it folded up in a book back home,” he said easily.

“And what book might that be, Merlin?” Morgana asked, cunningly. Gwen swatted her.

“Tell us the rest!” Morgana encouraged.

“I can’t remember the next bit,” Merlin pouted, “but I was very proud of it at the time.”

“Arthur said you didn’t get together until he finished university, am I to take it this was some pining induced literature?” Morgana pushed the subject.

“Christ, yes,”

“Merlin was awful,” Gwen groaned. “He never _told_ me about his feelings for Arthur until I had to _ask_ him straight out because it was so bloody obvious.”

Morgana had heard the story before. Despite Arthur not knowing it at the time, Gwen was the reason he and Merlin had ever got together. If it hadn’t been for Gwen’s counsel, Merlin might never have kissed Arthur and Arthur might never have reciprocated and they might never have expressed their true feelings! It was all a very risky business and just listening to it made Morgana feel nervous.

Morgana went to bed at around half twelve, wanting to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Gwen stayed up with Merlin, however, and didn’t fall into bed until about three in the morning, waking Morgana up in the process.

“Sorry,” Gwen mumbled, “go back to sleep.”

Morgana wondered what she and Merlin had been up to for all those hours but she was too tired to ask and Gwen had already snuggled into her neck and was stroking her hair to send her back to sleep which always worked a treat. It was Morgana’s greatest weakness.

The next morning, Merlin looked exhausted and slightly puffy about the eyes. When he saw Gwen he offered a tight smile and only seemed to relax when she wrapped her arms around him, kissed him on the cheek and wished him good morning.

When she and Gwen were alone in the kitchen a short while later, Gwen explained in hushed tones how she and Merlin had had words the night before about Merlin not telling Gwen about the engagement. She hadn’t been very angry at him, but he’d got upset thinking that she was and had been holding onto a lot of guilt about the whole thing.

At eleven the telephone rang and Morgana answered.

“Hello?”

“Morgs,” she heard Arthur say hoarsely. She knew what he was going to say but she pressed him on.

“What? What is it?”

“Father died this morning.” His breath shook as he ground the words out and it caused a crackle on the phone.

“Oh,” Morgana gasped as she slumped against the chair. “Oh,” she repeated and began to sob.

Merlin and Gwen looked over in shock, realising very quickly what must have happened.

“Merlin,” she heard Arthur request and she held out the telephone towards him. He took the receiver.

“Hello?” he said and Gwen sat down at Morgana’s side and held her while she cried. She could hear Merlin in the background.

_“I’m so sorry, I know, yes, I love you, of course, I’ll get the earliest train.”_

The four of them (Morgana, Gwen, Merlin, and Aithusa) traveled back to Camelot in a rush. The train journey was quiet and miserable. Morgana spent the whole journey staring out the window watching the world blur by and change as they left the city and were surrounded by country lands.

Gwen sewed for most of the journey, working on some embroidery of a rose she’d been working on for a cushion. Merlin attempted the crossword but was far too depressed to concentrate.

There was a car waiting for them at the station to take them home. Arthur was obviously at the house trying his best to arrange Uther’s affairs and instruct George on funeral arrangements but he was, despite the long warning period, in too much shock to do much of anything.

“I thought it would never happen,” he said to them, frowning in confusion. “Of course, rationally I knew that it was going to but I also felt like it wouldn’t. It felt like he would always be dying… but now that he’s dead it’s all so final. He’s just, _gone,”_ he looked at Merlin hopelessly.

“I know,” Merlin whispered and kissed his temple.

Morgana didn’t know what to say to him. They’d embraced when she’d arrived and she been relieved to see him but she didn’t know what to say. He was her father too but he also wasn’t. They were both now orphans but Morgana had been an orphan for years. It wasn’t the usual situation one finds themselves in. Was she grieving for her father or her guardian? Or was it not Uther at all? Was it mostly feelings of pain for Gorlois and longing to be back in his arms, his home, again? She resolved it was a mixture of all of those things.

Three days later they were burying Uther.

There were reefs of beautiful flowers of yellow and white which made the church look almost like there was to be a wedding instead of a funeral. However, when, instead of the wedding march, the organ started playing _Jerusalem_ and Uther’s coffin was carried in, Arthur up front, it sobered her to reality and she clenched her jaw to keep composure.

Arthur sat beside her when he’d done his part. Morgause, who had arrived that morning, was on her other side but Gwen and Merlin had to take seats further back. Uncle Agravaine was there as well and sat with the family, much to all of their displeasure.

She had to deal with condolences from Vivien and Sophia, which were as false as they came. They were far more interested in Arthur, as they always had been and were even more so now that he was the Lord of the estate. Fortunately, Elena was genuine in her concern for Morgana’s welfare and spent fifteen minutes with her after the service before Morgana had to leave. She and Arthur left together in the black funeral car and Merlin and Gwen trailed behind on foot.


End file.
